The Legend of the Mary Celeste
by Tabbycat2000
Summary: ch 9: In which the crew returns to Tortuga, compromises are made, and Jack and Sofia get to understand each other better
1. Prologue

Prologue

The ship rocked gently as it coasted along the sea, surrounded by the shimmering of moonlight mingling with its own reflection. Ten souls were upon the ship, but it could well have been abandoned for all the sound they made. It was a sound, well-built ship, but there was a feeling about it that suggested it could have easily rotted away in an instant if it were so inclined.

The moonlight undulated across the hull. The name Mary Celeste, painted in white across the hull, had an almost ghostlike glow in the dim light.

The deck creaked.

Two figures, both females, darted across the wooden decking, clutching rucksacks. The elder was about thirty years old, a slender woman with dark hair and frightened eyes. The other was a girl of about six, her hair tucked beneath a scarf: a small, luminous child. 

They slipped into the yawl boat, then lowered into the water. Whenever the ropes or pulleys creaked, they froze in apparent terror for several seconds, hardly daring to breathe, then continued with their task. When the boat floated of its own accord in the water, they untied the ropes and let the little boat drift. The Mary Celeste continued on, uncaring of the two escapees, and once the ship was far away the smaller craft's oars dipped into the sea, propelling it far away from the nightmare life on the ship had become.

* * *

"Why did we leave, Mama?"

Sarah Briggs continued pulling on her oar, moderating herself to match the child's strength. She sighed: a lonely, rattling sound. "The men were not well, Sofia, we left to protect ourselves."

"But Papa-"

"He was the worst of them!" Sarah snapped. "Did you not see, the madness creeping into his eyes, his mind spinning away from him? That madness would have seen us drowning like rats for imagined sins, Sofia."

"Why?" The little girl spoke with no confusion, no defiance, only meek curiosity. "What made them go mad, Mama?"

Sarah closed her eyes, wishing she had talked Benjamin out of captaining the ship in the first place. Now her inaction had stolen the lives of her husband, her nephew, and possibly herself and her daughter.

"Remember that your father said the Mary Celeste was once a pirate ship?"

Sofia nodded eagerly, eyes wide. "He said it was called the Amazon. I remember."

"Yes, it was. It was so called because most of the crew were women."

"For the woman warriors?"

"Yes. It was attacked by a ship of the British Navy and captured. The captain placed a curse on it."

Sofia's smooth brow creased with sudden confusion. "Mama, curses don't exist, Papa said so himself."

"And look where it got him," said Sarah bitterly. "They exist, child, almost more than you or I, and can work terrible things. The curse was that no man would ever sail aboard the Amazon and survive the experience."

"They changed the name to avoid that curse, didn't they." It was not a question. Sofia chose strange times to be insightful, and this was one of them. Sarah nodded.

"Yes, they did. But it didn't change things- that curse is woven into every board and rope of that ship. It began affecting the men the hour we left harbor, and has been worsening since. And they are such men, Sofia, that their madness would kill us as well."

"Mama, we are far from any land. We are dead anyway."

Sarah clenched her jaw, her eyes glinting with an iron will. "We will live. Even if I have to hail a pirate vessel to save us, or drink seawater and risk madness, I will bring us through this."

Sofia said nothing more. She knew her father had gone mad, and that so had Andrew and Gottlieb and the others, but now she feared that her mother had, too.


	2. Chapter 1: Drinking Games

Chapter One:

Drinking Games

On the best of days (or nights) Tortuga was rife with all sorts of madness, be it from alcohol or otherwise. This night was no different, indeed it seemed slightly more so. Several ships were currently docked there, all of them of unsavory origins and uncertain goals. Some might see the town as a dangerous, frightening place- most of those who sought it out saw the place as an enormous playground of opportunity.

Whatever Tortuga represented to others, at that moment it represented, to Gibbs, a good pint of ale and some mild entertainment in the form of barroom brawling.

Of course, after about ten minutes the brawl stopped, mostly because the cook had waded into the fray and knocked everyone involved unconscious with a cast-iron frying pan, and the common room of the inn reached something approaching peace. 

Gibbs swirled his ale in his tankard, wondering if he wanted to drink the remainder and have another or sip it a bit longer. He knew perfectly well that he could drink himself into another pigpen if he wanted, and thus tempered himself slightly. 

Someone sat on the stool to his right. Gibbs looked up perfunctorily, identified the small, tousle-haired woman in men's clothes as no one he knew, as returned his gaze to the miniature whirlpool in his mug.

"Fascinatin', isn't it?" asked the woman, smirking at the blank expression on Gibbs' face. 

"Oh, aye," said Gibbs sarcastically. "More so than lots o' things, ale is."

The woman shook her head slightly and turned her attention to the barkeep. She thumped the bar slightly to catch his eye. "Whiskey," she said firmly. "Give us the bottle."

Gibbs chuckled slightly as the woman took a full bottle of whiskey from the barkeep, eschewing the shot glass she was offered. "Bit strong for a woman o' your size, ain't it?"

The woman cast Gibbs an amused glance. "Hardly." She opened the bottle and tasted it, then gaze Gibbs an appraising look. "I could drink you under the table, old man."

"Could ye now?" Gibbs said neutrally. 

"More certainly than any jack tar here," she replied confidently. She used piratical slang, but the accent was strange. Her words were crisp and clear, and her accent was such that she could have been from absolutely anywhere. Gibbs wasn't much inclined to ruminating on people's origins, but he thought she might have originally been from America.

The little exchange had gotten some attention from those seated nearest the pair. A gruff-looking man with overgrown sideburns said, "I'd put five shillings on the old man 'ere, iffin you do get to it," he said, exposing several missing teeth in a raucous grin.

Several other men took up the challenge. Most of them sided with Gibbs. He tilted his head and smirked.

"What d' ye say to that?"

"Load o' tosh," she said, snorting derisively. Her eyes lit up with mischief. "I thought they'd have more than five shillings worth o' faith in ye."

"So'd I," Gibbs replied amiably, tossing a friendly glare at the betting men now clustered up around them. 

"So is it a bet? First one under pays the tab," the woman said, a teasing grin on her face. She tapped the side of the whiskey bottle in her hand. "We can start with this, if the barkeep'll be kind enough to give us the loan of two shot glasses."

"So it is," said Gibbs. He finished his ale and stood.

A table was quickly emptied of patrons and the two combatants sat across from each other, with the bottle and two slightly sticky shot glasses between them. One of the barmaids was volunteered to pour the shots to ensure equal amounts of liquor between the two.

It was an interesting scene- a grizzled, middle-aged, salty old pirate facing off against a small, slender woman who couldn't have been older than twenty-seven, although her sun-blasted face may have been lying- she might well have been anywhere from eighteen to thirty.

By the time the bottle was empty, the woman was grinning widely and Gibbs' eyes were starting to cross. Another bottle was called for and by the end of that one both combatants were swaying slightly in their seats. 

The quiet battle ended halfway through the third bottle. Glowering at each other and in slightly different states of drunk, they raised their now considerably sticker glasses and knocked back the contents. They placed the shot glasses back on the table and glared at each other.

Expression not changing a bit, Gibbs slid sideways off his chair and collapsed in a heap on the dirty floor.

The woman let out a peal of gleeful laughter as a good deal of money changed hands. She stood up, wobbling a bit, and gave Gibbs a half-hearted kick in the shins. "Make sure he pays up," she said to the barmaid in slurred tones. "I sure ain't." Casting a pleased look at the scene, she slipped away.

Only one person noticed that, as she went, she liberated several money purses from their previous owners. He smirked to himself.

* * *

"Back for more, I see. I thought last night's meeting made a wiser man o' ye."

Gibbs looked up and growled slightly. "Ye made a fool o me, right enough" he said. "And that tab weren't no pretty sight neither, lass."

The woman shrugged. "Not my problem." She grinned slightly. "Still fighting off a hangover, are we?"

"Shove off, ye scurvy wench," Gibbs grumbled. The woman laughed merrily. "Scurvy indeed!"

Gibbs said nothing for a moment, while the woman flagged down the barkeep for a glass of rum. After she had swallowed almost half of it he spoke again, having had time to get his brain cells to agree on a proper vocalization.

"What's your name, lass?"

"Ain't none o' yur business, mate, but I'm feelin' generous," she said, a teasing smile creeping up her tan face. "Sofia Briggs. And you?"

"Gibbs."

"What be your Christian name?"

"Ain't none o' yur business," Gibbs replied, but without much rancor. Sofia grinned slightly.

"Touché, then."

"I must say, I'm impressed. Such a little thing, holdin' all that liquor."

"Cap'n," said Gibbs neutrally. Sofia raised her eyebrows slightly. Jack Sparrow ignored her expression and sat heavily on the stool to her left, between Sofia and Gibbs. 

"Saw me flatten 'im last night, did ye?" Sofia asked, her almost permanent grin slipping back onto her face. "Good way to get a free drink, in my mind."

"That it is," said Jack. "You certainly earned it, lass, goin' against my rum-soaked first mate and comin' out the victor." He grinned slightly. "I din' appreciate having to haul the old dog back to the ship, though."

Gibbs spluttered in protest; Sofia laughed gaily. Her base state of being, in fact, seemed to be amusement. "Not that it did ye much good- he's right back where he started, ain't he?"

"Dif'rent stool," Gibbs grunted. 

"Same inn, same tankard, and same ale," Sofia replied blithely. "I dinnae think you'll be havin' the same bit o' whiskey, though." She grinned impishly, dark eyes dancing in the smoky half-light. "Think I cured him o' that particular vice. What be yur name, by the by?" she added, addressing Jack. Jack grinned roguishly and swept off his hat.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, of the Black Pearl. I didn't catch your name, lass."

"Ya dinnae ask me," she replied, "but it'd be Sofia Briggs."

Jack stuck his hat firmly atop the tangled mass that was his hair. "That's interesting," he mused. "Sounds familiar. You wouldn't be a relation o' Benjamin Briggs, would ye now?"

Sofia's expression shuttered disturbingly fast. "Aye. My father. What's it to you, Cap'n Jack?"

Jack shrugged and swiped Sofia's rum, polishing off the remains of it. "Not much. Heard of him."

"Everyone's heard o' Benjamin Briggs," said Gibbs, insinuating himself back into the conversation. "Disappeared off the decks o' the Mary Celeste, nigh on twenty years ago. Ain't that so, lass?"

"It is," said Sofia, relaxing slightly. "Along with the crew- probably jumped overboard on a whim," she said bitterly.

"I heard his family went with 'im," said Jack. "Ain't that interesting, though? Seein' as you're alive and all."

"Ain't none o' yur business, ye addlepated tars, but I went on a wee bit of a trip with me mum and never went aboard again," Sofia snapped. "When yur own father starts shouting about rains o' frogs and imagined infidelities betwixt yur mum and the mainmast, you'd scurry too."

"Aye, I would." Jack shrugged slightly and glanced about the room. "Your father was a respectable man, what are you doin' in Tortuga liftin' pocket change then, love?"

Sofia smirked and shrugged. "Bermuda got borin'." She dumped a few coins on the counter for the barkeep and left.

* * *

Sofia wandered aimlessly through Tortuga's dirty streets, sidestepping drunks and brawlers without thinking. She didn't know why she was all antsy- she'd faced the Spanish Inquisition about her origins before. It was just that the captain had a knowing look about him, as if he knew more about her reasons for being in Tortuga than even she herself did. It made her skin crawl.

"Lost, lad?" bellowed a voice heavily modulated by alcohol. "Forget where yur mum went?" A heavy hand landed on Sofia's narrow shoulder. She stopped dead in her tracks. She recognized the voice, even if the speaker didn't recognize her.

"I'm no more a lad than yur an English lord," Sofia snarled. She shrugged off the hand and started walking again, but her arm was seized and she was pulled around harshly.

"Why, it's our dear Sofia," the man leered, exposing rotten teeth and sending forth a gust of foul breath. "Ain't that a grand thing."

"Ain't is right," Sofia retorted, jerking her arm from his grip. "What d'ye want, Jordan?"

Jordan smirked. His eyes were slightly unfocused. "Ye've an outstandin' debt to me, lass," he said smugly. "A good deal o' swag swiped off my ship- I'd take great pleasure in takin' it outta yur hide." His eyes darkened.

"Shove off," Sofia snapped. "I ain't under yur thumb no more, nor yur scurvy captain and that lot o' simpletons ye call a crew. If you reckon you can take me, drunk as ye, then I reckon I just might have to kill ye fur good this time." 

Jordan blinked, trying to digest Sofia's speech, then smirked again. "What'd ye say 'bout me crew, lass?"

Five shadows detached themselves from the greater darkness, resolving into several crewmen from the _Blackbird. _Sofia's slim fingers clutched the short cutlass in her waistband almost convulsively. Spying the movements, three of the men drew their own. Jordan produced a flintlock pistol from somewhere in depths of the rags he called clothing.

"Oh, I think not," he said. 

They were a pack of drunken idiots. Sofia looked at the half-circle forming around her, and then she did something very odd.

She threw back her head and laughed.

Jordan frowned. "'Ere now-"

Still laughing, Sofia turned around and bolted. She vanished into the darkness like a ghost long before Jordan could even think of aiming his pistol.

"Follow her!" Jordan bellowed, infuriated. Like the obedient—and stupid—dogs they were the other men surged after Sofia like so many bloodhounds chasing a recalcitrant fox. 

Sofia darted through the shadows. She drew her cutlass, both to keep it from banging on her leg and in case she should need to use it. She blazed past taverns and brothels, pirates and merchants, all too engrossed in their own lives to notice.

The swarm of trailing pirates did attract attention, however, in the form of jeers and laughter. A few were so drunk they could barely walk, never mind run, and none of them were in any condition for an adrenaline-pumped chase.

So after about five minutes, most have dropped out of the running and retreated to the closest tavern. Jordan and Kramer, third mate of the Blackbird, kept going.

Sofia could hear them gaining on her. Her back prickled, and she ducked into an alley. Jordan's shot missed. 

"Ye whore-spawn, I'll kill ye yet!" Jordan roared.

Sofia smacked into a wall. She'd gone, in true Murphy's Law fashion, into a dead end. She whirled, cutlass before her, to see Jordan and Kramer at the head of the alley, blocking the faint light.

"Here we are," said Jordan, leering once again. "Come now, miss, drop that ruddy cutlass o' yurn and let's have a bit of a chat."

"I'd sooner trust a serpent than you, Jeremiah Jordan," Sofia spat. 

"Ye trusted me enough to join me crew," Jordan retorted. "I was so trustworthy, in fact, that ye walked away with more swag than I'd care to count."

"That was years ago, ye old dog," Sofia spat. "And no more'n yur due."

Jordan fired another shot. It ricocheted off the bricks to Sofia's left. She flinched, but did not stand down. 

"I lost me standin' and I've got a bloody _Frenchman_ captainin' me own ship now!" Jordan bellowed. "Don' give me tha' mess!"

Sofia rolled her eyes. "Yur borin'." And so she lunged forward. Kramer swiped at her with his cutlass, getting a gash and a punch to the jaw for his trouble. Jordan fired wildly, all four remaining shots hitting naught but air and brick. 

Kramer scrambled away, too drunk to do anything more. Sofia whirled on Jordan. He threw his pistol at her and drew his own sword.

"I'll kill ye yet," Jordan said again, teeth gritted. Sofia shook her head.

"You just don't know when to give up, do ye?" Once again, Sofia turned and ran. Even drunk, Jordan was not a man to cross blades with. 

Particularly when Jordan had taught Sofia the craft to begin with.

* * *

The docks were, in a startling contrast to the rest of the city, deathly silent and still. Wood creaked and waves lapped, but otherwise it was quiet.

Sofia stumbled along the dock, dragging her cutlass. The sun was just beginning to peek over the eastern horizon- the boats leaving this morning would be doing so within the next two hours. She had to hurry, but her legs were cramped- she'd spent the past four hours alternating pell-mell sprints with bone-weary slogging. Normally she would have stopped long before, but her own deeply seated paranoia kept her moving, eventually leading her down to the docks.

Her eyes were blurred from exhaustion and the half a bottle of whiskey she'd swiped from an unconscious drunk. Even if she had been able to read, she never would have been able to make out the names painted on the sides of the ships anyway.

She clambered up a random gangplank, stumbled as she set foot on the deck, and five steps later fell full-length on the boards with a bone-shuddering crash. 


	3. Chapter 2:The Madness of Captain Sparrow

Chapter Two:

The Madness of Captain Sparrow

Jack Sparrow surveyed the scene, caught between mild bafflement and amusement. He nudged the unconscious woman with the toe of his boot, eliciting no response whatsoever. She was well and truly schnockered, he decided, although how she had arrived at such a state on the deck of his ship was beyond him.

"Now what?" asked Gibbs. "I say dump the lass on the dock and leave 'er."

"Then it is a good thing," said Jack, not really paying attention, "that you are not captain." He kneeled and rolled Sofia onto her back, exposing her dirty, bruised face. She was alive, at least, but in a bit of a state- she was pale, more tattered than Jack remembered, and along with the bruises on her face, which were probably caused by her fall, the knuckles of her left hand were bruised and bloody. Her clothes were stiff with dried sweat, another thing that had not been present the night before.

"Probably in a bit of a scrap," said Jack vaguely, "an' got lost." He stood again, gave Sofia another half-hearted kick just for good measure, and was about to call Ana Maria when there was a shout from the dock.

Jack looked over the rail to see a filthy, greasy man wearing clothing that was almost rotting off of him. "What's that?" Jack called.

"Ye seen a small lass with dark hair, answers to Sofia?" the man asked. "Cap'n o' the _Blackbird's_ lookin' fer her."

"Can't say I have," Jack replied with mock somberness. "I prefer the busty blonde sort," he added. The man on the dock chuckled. "I know what ye mean, mate. But it seems the gel walked off with a good bit o' loot, an' he ain't all that happy right about now."

"I fully sympathize. I will be certain to inform you if I do," Jack said, bowing slightly and waving his tricorn hat. He slurred his speech slightly, just for good measure. The man chuckled again and wandered away, his walk marking him as being none too sober himself.

"Daft man," Gibbs muttered. "Jus' what do ye intend to do with her?" he asked, referring to Sofia.

Jack turned and met Gibbs' eyes. "We sail with the tide, Mister Gibbs, and that's now. Haven't time to set her down, savvy?"

Gibbs nodded and left to see about his own duties, muttering under his breath. Jack caught something about bad luck, and laughed softly. For all his gruffness, there was never a more superstitious soul than Gibbs.

"Ashley!" Jack bellowed. Ashley appeared a moment later, jumping lightly from the shrouds to the deck. 

"Aye, Cap'n."

"See to this bit o' baggage," said Jack, poking Sofia (yet again) with the toe of his boot. "I want it stowed before we set sail."

Ashley cast Jack a dubious look, but he nodded and dragged Sofia below decks. 

* * *

It was a long time before Sofia awoke. When she did, it was suddenly and fully- she sat up, looked around, then swung off the mildew-smelling cot and crouched on the floor, reaching for her cutlass, finding it on the floor. This all took less than three seconds.

"Bit jumpy, aren't ye love."

Sofia looked up. Jack Sparrow had just walked in, apparently it had been the thud of the hatch against the bulkhead that had awakened her. She stifled a groan and slowly stood up.

"Oh. Hello," she said, trying desperately to recoup her characteristic good humor. "Um… where am I, if ye don't mind me askin'?"

"You, darling, are aboard the infamous Black Pearl," said Jack, making an expansive gesture. "We're currently sailing towards the Isla de Muerta. Satisfy your curiosity?"

"A bit," said Sofia warily. "And… what'm I doin' here?"

"Someone was looking for you with none too honorable intentions in mind," said Jack. "Bloody Cap'n Gandillon, I think."

"Who?" Sofia asked blankly. Then she pinched her eyes shut and shook her head sharply. "Captain of the _Blackbird_, I remember. But it ain't him what wants to use my skin for a throw rug, it's his first mate Jeremiah Jordan. Doesn't like me much." Sofia stood, absentmindedly rubbing the back of her left hand. She tossed Jack a lopsided grin. "Can't imagine why."

"First mate? Weren't he a captain once?"

Sofia chuckled softly. "Aye, he were. Until me an' my mate sailed off with his ship an' sold it to Gandillon. He'll mutiny an' get his bloody boat back the instant Gandillon ain't watchin' 'im."

"Sounds like a bit of a tale there," Jack mused. "No wonder he wants ye for 'imself. He what chased ye down to me ship?" he asked, indicating Sofia's bruised knuckles. She nodded tersely.

"Aye. Six years an' he's still bent on killin' me."

Jack leaned on the bulkhead and examined Sofia. She was certainly an unpredictable person, but it was odd to have all that strange history wrapped up in this short, slender woman with short, dark hair and even darker eyes. She stood easily, even with the Black Pearl's seasickness-inducing rocking motion, and the way she held her cutlass indicated a great deal of familiarity with its usage. Strange woman, indeed- stranger even than Ana Maria, who didn't have any sort of sensationalism in her past.

"What were ye doin' in Tortuga, love?" Jack asked. "I don't think it was just for the company."

Sofia shrugged. "Lookin' for trouble, I 'spose. Been searchin' for a woman by the name o' Lydia Avery- she were the captain o' the Amazon, close on twenty-five years ago."

"She's probably dead by now," said Jack derisively. "The Amazon was captured and made into a bloody merchant ship."

Sofia said nothing. A slight smirk played with one corner of her mouth.

"I thought ye were smarter 'n that, Cap'n," said Sofia. "Thought ye would've figured out why by now."

Jack waved off her words. "Can't be bothered. I like things set out straight, savvy?"

"She were the one what cursed the Amazon so's no man could sail her," said Sofia. "The British Navy renamed her the Mary Celeste."

"Ah." Jack raised his eyebrows slightly and tilted his head to one side, making his hair trinkets jingle slightly. "Ye be wantin' to revenge yourself upon the woman what killed yur father."

Sofia shrugged, the very picture of nonchalance. Jack wasn't fooled a bit. "Among other things," she said, a strange glint creeping into her coal-dark eyes. "That bloody curse ended up killin' my mother and settin' me up as a near-slave to them bloody pirates on the Blackbird. Weren't pleasant."

Jack nodded, and then said abruptly, "So ye know about sailin'."

Sofia nodded in turn. "Aye."

"Good. Mr. Cotton passed on a month ago, yur his replacement. Saves me the trouble o' finding one on me onesies. You'll be startin' up tomorrow morning, savvy?" Jack cast Sofia a look that clearly communicated that, unless she wanted to be chucked overboard and possibly keelhauled in her skivvies, or at least placed in the brig until next landfall, she didn't really have a choice in the matter.

Sofia drew herself to her full height—which didn't make much difference, as she was only five feet tall—and nodded sharply. "Aye, Cap'n."

Jack's stern expression unfroze with disturbing swiftness, and he grinned roguishly, exposing several gold teeth. "Welcome to the _Black Pearl_, love."

* * *

Sofia placed one foot on the railing and rested her hand on her knee. She watched the dark waters of the Caribbean Sea, reflecting the rippling and shifting moon like another sea had, many years ago. The ship swayed under her feet, more comforting to her than her mother's half-forgotten embrace had ever been. She'd heard that some philosophers claimed life sprang from the sea, and in moments like this Sofia thought it was the only thing that said philosophers had ever gotten right.

"Here I am again," Sofia murmured, losing herself in the sensations of the moment. "Sailin' off to that blasted unknown future o' mine." She took a deep breath, savoring the smell of sea-salt and wood. 

She'd done this so many times, slip away into nothing and soak up the ocean. In New York, the Carolinas, the Azores, Africa, even Brazil once. This was the first time she'd had the freedom to feel of the Caribbean, however, and she loved it.

"Ye should be below decks, lass," Gibbs grunted. "Keepin' yourself out o' the way."

"I just had to see it," Sofia replied softly. "I haven't been free to stand on the deck on a ship in a long time, what with bein' a stowaway most o' the time. I've missed it."

"Aye," Gibbs. "I know the feelin'." He leaned on the railing, arms folded. "'Tis a lovely sight."

"Aye," Sofia replied. "Makes a body wish they'd the schoolin' to put it in words."

"Words? What fur? Too big fur any sort o' words," said Gibbs. "Ain't meant to be written down."

Sofia smiled at Gibbs' words. "That's certainly true."

"So, lass, where'd you learn to drink like tha'?" asked Gibbs. Sofia grinned to herself.

"I grew up amongst old salts like you, Gibbs, and we lived off beer and rum, almost," said Sofia. "When there was water, it were mixed with rum so's the men would actually drink it. I reckon I've become a bit immune to alcohol."

Gibbs chuckled. "Aye, that's the only way a little thing like you could out-drink me, old drunk tha' I am."

"Indeed."

They lapsed into companionable silence, contemplating the starlit sea. Sofia took her foot from the railing and mimicked Gibbs' posture, sighing softly.

"A fine pair ye make," said Jack Sparrow teasingly, swaggering towards the two. He had been at the wheel, but now a black man called Neville was manning it. "Standin' out here all romantic-like…"

Gibbs snorted derisively. Sofia pursed her lips and gave Jack's shoulder a light thump, but her eyes glittered with amusement.

"Jealous, Cap'n?" she asked coquettishly. Gibbs snorted again, this time with suppressed laughter. Jack gave Sofia a look of mock innocence.

"My dear girl, what ever made you think such a thing? Fraternizing with me own crew! What kind of scurvy dog do ye think I am?"

"The opportunistic kind," Sofia replied amiably. "Never mind Cap'n, I's just bein' Sofia."

"An' here I thought you were the Queen o' England," said Gibbs. "More the fool me."

Sofia laughed at Gibbs' turn of phrase. "I certainly fooled ye, din' I."

Jack shook his head. "You're absolutely daft, love."

"So're you. An' I ain't no one's love, least of all you," Sofia replied. "Ain't been for nearly five years, an' it's stayin' tha' way."

Jack said nothing, only smirked slightly, as if he knew full well no woman alive could resist his charm. Sofia had seen plenty of charmers in her life, and while Jack featured in amongst the more talented ones, she had long ago decided that any buccaneer was not a romantic option, dashing or no. She'd learned her lesson quite well with Starling.

"I'll be goin' below," said Sofia after a slight pause. "Feelin' me age, I 'spose." She tossed the two men a sarcastic smile and then vanished below decks.

"Odd woman," said Gibbs, once Sofia was gone. Jack nodded and shrugged.

"They all are, Gibbs. They all are."

* * *

The next morning, gone were the joking men of before, replaced by stern ship's officers. Sofia did not let herself be surprised- she had been a passing acquaintance before, but now she was just another tar. If she wanted to be anything more, she had to earn her keep. She caught herself thinking several times that she seemed to have regressed back to her _Blackbird_ days, when even the cabin boy was worth more than her. The _Black Pearl_ had no cabin boy, but Sofia held to the idea. She was worked ragged.

Truth be told, she rather enjoyed it. It had been too long since she'd been able to be above decks on a ship at will, even if she had to mend rope when doing so.

The days slipped away easily, marked only by the forming of nascent friendships with some of the crew. The only other woman aboard, Ana Maria, was not among them- she did not care for Sofia, and Sofia disliked the other woman's harsh personality. After a few clashes, they reached an unspoken accord- they would stay as far away from each other as possible.

There were few encounters with other ships, and all passed relatively bloodlessly, except for one memorable encounter when the cook of the _Sea Jewel_ attacked Gibbs with the unconventional combination of a meat cleaver and a frying pan. Gibbs was unharmed and the cook was pacified, spoken to, and then brought aboard the _Black Pearl_ as their newest crew member, a move only made because Jack liked the scrawny teenager's spunk and the lad could cook well. Sofia took it as proof of Jack's insanity.

And so, as time has a habit of doing, the weeks slipped by….


	4. Chapter Three: Thinking Too Much

Chapter Three:

Thinking Too Much

It was, Sofia decided, not a very impressive destination. The ruddy island didn't even have a proper harbor to dock in.

"Why would the Cap'n be bringin' us here?" she asked Tuck, one of the crewman she'd gotten to know over the past two and a half weeks. Tuck looked up from the rope he was coiling and gave her a sarcastic smile.

"Ain't you heard nothin', lass? This be our place o' safe keepin'."

"For what?"

"Whatever booty we scrapes up," Tuck replied. "Back to work with ye."

Over the next half-hour, the ship was maneuvered into a position as close to the island as possible. Several of the lifeboats were loaded with excess booty—chests of coins, a box or two of silks—and all but Gibbs and Ana Maria and the cook, Joseph, were conscripted as rowers. 

Sofia found herself in the same boat as Jack Sparrow, who seemed positively giddy with boyish excitement. He pulled an oar just like Sofia and the two other crewmen, Tuck and Miguel, but he was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"It's only an island, Cap'n," Sofia said, glancing at Jack with a dubious expression. "Can't be that much to get all excited about."

Miguel snickered. Jack looked surprised at Sofia's words.

"My dear Sofia, I expected more from you," he said, waggling his eyebrows slightly. "Don't you listen to gossip, love?"

"Too busy workin'," Sofia said blithely. "Ain't one for idle tales, neither."

Jack chuckled and shook his head, but said nothing more. She'd soon realize the foolishness of such a position, especially upon the Black Pearl.

Along with the two other boats, they rowed into the mouth of what looked to be a sea-cave of inconsequential proportions. Further examination, however, showed it to be a winding cavern that probably took up a good deal of the island, should anyone care to explore.

Despite herself, Sofia's breath caught at the sight of gold coins lying like so much debris at the bottom of the narrow channel of water. She found herself wondering just how much swag there was here, and how she could find the island again after her stay aboard the Pearl.

"Here we are," said Jack cheerfully as they crunched to a stop. He stepped out onto dry rock. "Unload the boats," he barked to the crew, then grinned and sauntered down the passage and out of view.

Sofia shook her head and helped Miguel and Tuck carry the first chest over the lip of stone. Then she started and nearly dropped it on her own feet.

"That," she said breathlessly, "is a bloody big pile o' gold."

"Aye, lass," Tuck said, amused at Sofia's reaction. "It certainly is."

They carried the chest to a likely looking bit of rock, and then dumped the contents onto it. The two men went back for the other chest, but Sofia lingered.

Jack was off somewhere in the gloom, talking to himself and messing about in the piles of booty. Sofia couldn't really see him- there were holes in the ceiling, allowing natural light, but it was a heavily overcast day and the cavern was dimly lit. She could hear him perfectly, however. He was singing some pirate drinking song.

"The horde to end all others, it seems," Sofia breathed to herself. She picked up a few coins and tested their weight in her hand- they clinked richly against each other.

"Ain't it lovely?"

Sofia jumped and shrieked. Jack grinned at her reaction. She'd been off in her own world, and the hyperactive little boy in him couldn't resist the opportunity to startle her. 

Sofia calmed herself and nodded. "Aye. Where'd it come from?"

Jack shrugged and flopped onto the pile of coins. "Here an' there. No clue for most o' it, Barbossa's to thank fur it."

"Who?"

Jack waved off the question. "No one o' consequence, at least anymore." He chuckled softly, as if at an unheard joke. "Commodore Barbossa… gullible ol' dog…"

Sofia shook her head and went back to the boats. She'd rather haul gold around than listen to Jack's ramblings. Her captain he might be, but he unsettled her. She refused to think of any reasons why, beyond his slightly mad countenance.

They stayed at Isla de Muerta only that one day, during which Jack ordered them not only to deposit their newest winnings, but also to haul a large stone chest back to the ship. He refused to explain himself, or even allow anyone to open it in a fit of benign curiosity. When it was actually on the ship, Gibbs refused to go anywhere near it.

The night was a merry one- Joseph, the teenage cook, assembled a tasty supper and then Jack, in a fit of unusual generosity, handed out enough rum to make everyone on board quite thoroughly drunk. Once this was so, Duncan started sawing away on his salt-crusted fiddle. To any sober man it was an inhospitable racket, but as no one present was completely sober (not even Sofia) it was greatly appreciated. Tuck went into an enthusiastic jig, but then tripped on an empty bottle and nearly fell overboard. 

All in all, an uneventful party. As such things went.

Well, at least for pirates.

* * *

Three days out of the Isla de Muerta, Jack had apparently decided Sofia had proven herself a worthy crewmember. As such, she suddenly found herself with free time. Of course, said free time was only to be had when everyone she could actually hold a conversation with was otherwise occupied.

So it was that she found herself up on the quarterdeck (the only empty space large enough for such things) swinging her cutlass at imaginary opponents. In her imagination, she killed Jeremiah Jordan multiple times and then sailed away with the Blackbird, yet again, to steal the fortunes of the Isla de Muerta and retire in piratical splendor. 

Unlike Sofia, who was giggling to herself and slashing at the air, Jack was bored. Standing at the wheel for hours at a time tends to breed such feelings. He watched Sofia's antics for a short time, but then ran out of what little patience he had. He put Gibbs at the wheel and approached her.

"You're a bit rusty, aren't ye lass?"

Startled, Sofia spun around and very nearly took off Jack's beard braids. She slid the cutlass inside its sheath at her belt and grinned sheepishly.

"Pardon me, Cap'n, ye startled me," she said while Jack was tugging at his beard, ensuring it was still intact. 

"I can tell," Jack said dryly. "How long is it since ye practiced, love?"

Sofia shrugged. "Too long, probably. Haven't had the wherewithal. Why do ye ask?"

Jack took the cutlass from Sofia's waist, ignoring her scowl, and inspected the blade absently. "If you really do have the Blackbird's crew after yur mangy hide, then ye'd best be preparin' for 'em, and swingin' at dust isn't going to help." He stepped back and took a few experimental swings with Sofia's blade, testing its balance, and then tossed it hilt first to Sofia. She caught it easily.

"So, lass, let's have a go of it." And without any further warning, Jack drew his own blade and lunged at Sofia. She ducked his first wild swing, and then the pair set to it in earnest.

Of course, a scuffle of any sort is a spectator sport among pirates, but a sword fight between the captain and the lowest-rung tar is something to see. Before long the mizzenmast and the main mast had crew dangling off in hopes of seeing the fight well. Most cheered for Jack, valuing their hides, but Tuck and Joseph were firmly on Sofia's side.

They ranged over the quarterdeck, the main deck, and then back up to circle the wheel, ducking behind stairs and twisting around ropes like a pair of over-trained acrobats caught in an elaborate dance. Which, in effect, they were.

Sofia growled in frustration. Jack was very good, but she wasn't going to concede defeat yet. She slashed right, then threw a punch. She hit Jack in the jaw, and he stumbled back slightly. A shout rose up from the men and Ana Maria let out a whoop of pure feministic glee. Dislike Sofia or not, it was extremely entertaining to see Jack get hit (yet again) by a woman.

Of course, such cheering only goaded Jack on further. Thirty seconds later, he had Sofia pinned against the outside wall of his cabin. 

"Now what'll ye do?" he asked, smirking. Sofia scowled.

"I ain't done yet," she snarled. And then she stomped as hard as she possibly could on Jack's toe and shoved him.

For such a small creature, Sofia was deceptively strong. Caught unawares, Jack fell hard on his rump. Sofia's cutlass tip hovered at his throat.

"Ha," she said softly, smirking at Jack's expression of mingled surprise and amusement. "I know ye let me win, Cap'n Sparrow," she said. "But I still won." And with that she put her cutlass away and offered Jack a hand. He grunted slightly and ignored it, standing up by himself.

"I'll be sure to never underestimate you again, then," he said. "I'll swab the deck with you."

Sofia raised her eyebrows, a smile toying with the corners of her mouth. "Will ye now?" And she walked away, knowing full well that everyone on the ship was watching her as she disappeared below decks.

Gibbs chuckled. "The lass has spunk, right enough."

Jack tossed him a glare, which he then sent at the rest of the crew. "Back to yer duties, ye scurvy dogs!"

The crew did as they were told, but not without several snickers at Jack's expense. He ignored them and went back to the wheel. Gibbs left him to it, laughing under his breath as he went.

Ana Maria walked up onto the quarterdeck, chuckling softly. "You always did let women get the best o' ye," she said. "Sofia isn't any different."

Jack scowled at Ana Maria's double entendre. "She's just another member o' my crew, same as you or Crimp or anyone else."

"Mmm hmm. And Scarlett was your younger sister." Ana Maria shook her head and wandered away, leaving Jack to stew in his own thoughts.

* * *

"How did you end up as cook on the _Sea Jewel_?" Sofia asked absently, keeping her eyes on her task- it's never a good idea to peel potatoes while looking the other way. Joseph put a lid on the pot he had been stirring and shrugged.

"My father was an officer in the British Navy, and I joined on principle," he said. He had a strong British accent, somewhere between Gibbs' inflection and a street-rat Cockney. He was tall and wiry and walked with a bad limp, the reason for which he'd never told anyone. "I can't fight, or sail, really, so they chucked me below decks with a wooden spoon an' told me to make myself useful." He grinned crookedly and shrugged again. "So I did."

Sofia nodded, echoing Joseph's smile with one of her own. "Interesting. But why did you let Jack haul ye to the Pearl?"

Joseph's smile vanished, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. "I was dreadfully bored, miss…"

"And?" Sofia pressed. She was an expert at half answers, and knew that Joseph himself was using one. Joseph shrugged.

"No one here treats me odd because I'm no bloody use topside," he said. "Frying pan or no," he added, grinning crookedly. Sofia laughed, recalling Gibbs' expression of shock when he was hit over the head with a pan. He hadn't been knocked out, Joseph hadn't the strength to do so in one hit, but the situation had offered up a great deal of humor.

"The cap'n's an odd sort," Sofia said, tossing a peeled potato into the pot at her elbow. "Th' only reason I'm here is that he thought I was interestin'."

Joseph reached for the pot of potatoes, giving Sofia an amused glance. She returned it with a mildly scandalized one.

"Ye bloody… man! Not like tha'," she said furiously. "I out-drank Gibbs and passed out the next night on the deck o' the _Pearl_, after a pack o' scurvy tars chased me through Tortuga on an ancient grudge. He thought I was an interestin' character, is all I can say about it."

"Beggin' yur pardon, miss," said Joseph, still grinning cheekily. "Didn't mean to offend you."

Sofia huffed indignantly, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "'Nuff o' that 'miss' tosh," she said. "No one's called me by my bloody name for over a week. It's Sofia, you hear?"

"Yes, miss."

"Why, you-" Sofia threw a half-peeled potato at Joseph, who laughed and ducked. Sofia shook her head, laughing under her breath, and returned to her task.

Ana Maria stuck her head in the galley, scowling. "What's the racket about?" she asked grumpily.

"Joseph's being cheeky," said Sofia airily. "Scrawny whelp that he is. Did ya want anythin'?"

Ana Maria scowled again and disappeared. Joseph shook his head.

"You an' I, we're the only sane ones on this boat," said Joseph wonderingly. Sofia laughed.

"I wouldn't say tha' just yet. You don't know me well enough."


	5. Chapter Four: Psychology

Chapter Four

Psychology

The _Black Pearl_ seemed to almost hover ghostlike upon the waters; its previously whole sails now slightly tattered. There had been a storm earlier in the day, but when the sun had gone so had the bad weather. Now the ship was all alone in an ocean not only of water, but also of crystalline stillness.

Jack opened the door of the crews' quarters. "Miguel, Moses, get up."

In the dimness of the damp room, two figures—one large and very obviously of African descent, the other a small Hispanic man—slid out of their hammocks and followed Jack. Neither said anything, knowing he would make his wishes clear.

"Go down to the hold an' fetch that stone chest, the coffin-lookin' one," said Jack, voice low in an apparent effort to keep the orders clandestine. The two crewmen nodded sleepily and descended deeper into the bowels of the ship. Five minutes later, grunting with the effort, they hauled the chest in question up to the main deck.

"Back to sleep with ye," said Jack, once the chest was topside.

"Cap'n-" Miguel protested, but was cut off by a sharp glare from Jack. Moses shrugged, his dark skin gleaming in the starlight, and returned to his bunk. Casting suspicious glances over his shoulder, Miguel followed a moment later.

Jack blew all the air out of his lungs. Once he heard the crew quarters' hatch shut, he shoved the lid off the chest.

Gold glimmered up at him, each piece a ghastly relief of a skull surrounded by a spiky halo. Jack slid his fingers across the wealth, the coins clinking softly beneath his touch.

"'Twas all over this," he murmured to himself. "Cursed gold…" That struck him as ironically funny, and he chuckled softly.

Jack replaced the lid, and then began pushing the chest. He was a slender man, more disposed to acrobatic feats than those of brute strength, and before the chest had moved a foot he was puffing slightly.

This only increased his satisfaction, however, when the chest and its ghastly contents went plummeting over the side of the ship, making an enormous splash.

"What'd ye do tha' for?"

Jack did not jump; he had weaned himself from surprise a long time ago. Instead he turned around smoothly, as if he knew he had been watched the entire time, and said, "Why do you think it concerns you?"

Sofia shook her head. "I ne'er thought I'd see the day that a pirate such as yourself would voluntarily dispose of all that gold in such a manner."

"It's not day, for one thing," said Jack, a cheeky smile twitching on his lips, "an' you've never met a pirate such as myself before now, so how can ye say? 'Twas my gold, can do what I like with my own effects."

Sofia sighed and shook her head, making her bangs dance. "I 'spose. But why?"

"Cursed," said Jack, as if this were the most reasonable reply in the world. Sofia nodded.

"Curses ain't to be played with. Good thing to chuck it overboard, then." She approached the railing and peered over, as if expecting to catch the gleam of diseased gold from the sea floor.

"You know something about curses."

Sofia snorted. "No, but I know the power o' the little devils. One o' 'em s' what sent me out on this life. But do you really believe in them, Cap'n?" she added, casting Jack a curious glance. He didn't seem like a suspicious person. Sofia herself was, but she had good reason.

"Been under one meself," Jack said lightly. "Interesting thing. Got to see me own insides for a bit. But them what was under it for a long time, they're the buggers what mutinied against me an' set me roamin' for ten years."

Sofia nodded. "At least, then, we have that much in common," she said softly. "Not cursed in and of ourselves, but certainly shaped by one."

Jack grinned. It was too good to pass up. He tilted his head and leered openly. "I don't know about myself, but you seem to have been shaped rather well, if I do say so."

Sofia's eyes narrowed. "Put yer eyes back in yer head, Jack Sparrow," she snapped, "afore I remove 'em altogether."

"Would you really-"

Jack never got the rest of his sentence out; Sofia threw a left hook in the second time in as many weeks, landing it on Jack's jaw. Despite himself, Jack saw stars- he needed to stop underestimating her, he thought groggily as Sofia stalked back below decks.

Sofia couldn't bring herself to go back to the crew quarters, amongst all those sleeping men that smelled rather odd. So she stomped her way to the galley. Joseph was asleep under the table, curled up with a blanket and twitching slightly in his sleep, but she didn't bother him.

Sofia started pacing through the small galley, wishing for more space but unwilling to go topside and risk running into Jack again.

"That bloody pirate," she said furiously. "Just because every woman in the bloody Caribbean is after his hide, he thinks I ought too as well! Arrogant whorespawn!"

She kicked a kettle that had been lying on the floor. Joseph started.

"Huh? Is it breakfast already?" he mumbled, more asleep than awake. Sofia fled.

Much to Sofia's relief, the deck was vacant of all but Gibbs, who was half-asleep at the wheel, and the few men in the rigging paid her no mind. Sofia was left to pace in peace.

* * *

St. Christopher's island was not a prominent trading spot; in fact it was almost considered a non-entity by merchants. That was exactly why Jack had docked there while they performed the necessary repairs to the ship- no one would bother to notice them.

Sofia had been suffering from a touch of cabin fever, and the instant she was allowed she headed for the nearest tavern. Most of the other men did as well, but with rather more unsavory things in mind than she. They had two days of shore leave, and intended to make good use of every moment of it.

Ever since the little tryst between her and Jack several days before, Sofia had been uptight and irritable. Nothing could sooth her nerves better, she decided, than getting absolutely schnockered. Passing out on the tavern floor was not only imminent, but also downright appealing. 

Later, when Sofia fully realized the consequences of her actions that night, she would curse herself and every other person alive for not preventing it. But by that time it was far too late. Back in the present, Sofia was cheerfully drowning her woes in whiskey.

She was fully unaware that she might end up drowning herself as well.

* * *

Sofia groaned and sat up. She felt as if something furry had crawled into her mouth and died. It brought no consolation to discover that said fuzzy thing was her tongue.

Sofia groaned again and staggered to her feet. For a moment the room spun around her, but it righted itself and she leaned against the wall in a misguided effort to hold herself up.

"I loathe hangovers," she muttered despondently, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. Sofia rarely got bad hangovers, accustomed to alcohol as she was, but sometimes the Powers That Be saw fit to punish her for her extensive drinking. This, apparently, was one of those occasions.

Sofia put her hands down and blearily surveyed her surroundings. For a minute she was puzzled, but then her heart sank and her stomach gave a sickening lurch.

She was in the brig of the _Blackbird_. Sofia would know the place to her dying day- the damp darkness, moldy straw, scratching sounds from stowaway rats, and the single small porthole, just inches out of her reach. It was the first place aboard the _Blackbird_ she had any clear recollection of, and it was where, almost fifteen years previous, her mother had died.

"Awake then, poppet? Good."

Beyond the bars of Sofia's cell a ghastly image resolved into being- that of Jordan's dirty, pockmarked, leering face. She lifted her chin, eyes blazing defiantly, but inside she was all jelly.

"Jordan," Sofia said coolly, eyes narrowed. "Here we are again. So what'll it be this time- the rack, hot pokers?"

Jordan chuckled softly- a low, sinister sound that sent shivers up Sofia's spine. He stepped closer and rested his arms on the crossbars. For a moment it seemed that he was the one caged and not Sofia, and she barely contained a smile at the image.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll think o' somethin' fittin'," he said, eyes raking up and down Sofia's form. She shuddered and hugged herself, feeling exposed.

"Frightened, lass?"

"Not o' you," she retorted, hardly thinking about. "Nor tha' pack of mangy, addlepated dogs ye call yer crew."

Jordan nodded slowly, a disbelieving smirk oozing across his repugnant face. "O' course, lass."

There was a short silence, made longer by the panic growing in Sofia's chest. "Where are we?" she asked sharply.

Jordan shrugged, but his eyes glittered with barely concealed amusement. "Not certain, lass. Summat chucked our navigation instruments o'erboard." 

Sofia blew a lock of hair off her forehead, masking a sigh. She mentally measured out the odds of the _Black Pearl_ chasing after her, and came up with an abysmal number of twenty-three to one, provided they even noticed her absence before she was dead. Not encouraging in the least. But then, she'd escaped Jordan's clutches before and she would do so now. It couldn't be all that hard, she supposed. 

"But even so," said Jordan, interrupting Sofia's calculations, "we'll be sailin' a good bit- off to Africa, givin' us all sorts of time to play with ye." He leered again. "But you'll be in perfect health long afore we reach any port, an we wouldn't want ye half-asleep." He tilted his head to one side, giving his sinister face a sickly cast in the dim half-light. 

Sofia swallowed hard. This was it- she'd never see land, or the Black Pearl, or its mad captain ever again.

The idea made her sad, somehow.

Jordan grinned and tipped an imaginary hat. "G'day, lass," he said cheerfully, and then walked off through the gloom, leaving Sofia to her own thoughts.

Not that they were any comfort.

* * *

Jack glanced at the crew lineup once more, trying to see if anyone had escaped his notice. No one else was forthcoming.

Jack swore softly. Sofia was missing. She was not the type, he surmised, to abandon a just captain and a good ship- either she was dead drunk down some alleyway, or something highly unpleasant had happened to her. He turned sharply.

"Gibbs! Go and fetch the harbormaster, and ask after a ship by the name of _Blackbird_. It'll either be under Gandillon or Jeremiah Jordan. If not, ask after Sofia at the taverns." Not waiting for Gibbs' response, he looked back at the crew and barked, "Ready the ship! We sail with the morning tide."

The crew scrambled to fulfill their duties. Gibbs scrambled down the gangplank and towards the harbormaster's office, wondering why Jack was so adamant about finding one tardy female. Sofia, in Gibbs' mind, had no reason to stay with them now that she knew where the Isla de Muerta was.

But Gibbs was a good sailor, so he did as he was ordered despite his own reservations.

Two hours later, he came back to the ship. Had he been capable of writing, he would have been clutching a handful of notes, but as it was he was desperately reciting the news in his head.

Jack was in his cabin, poring over a map. Gibbs blew in with neither knock nor any other ado, and slammed the hatch shut behind him. Jack looked up at the noise, an expectant expression on his face, but Gibbs half-fancied he could see a note of stifled panic in Jack's eyes.

"No _Blackbird_, Cap'n, but there was one goin' by _Raven_, under a man by the name o' Jordan Gandillon. Harbormaster said he weren't no frenchie, but he din' pay it no mind. An' the barkeep at the Dancin' Donkey said a lass wearin' men's clothes and short hair was dragged off by a couple o' big lads, wearin' outdated British uniforms." He took a deep breath, having said all that with very few breaths to speak of, and shook his head. "Las' night, a' the latest."

Jack nodded absently. "Jordan's got her, right enough. Slimy cad. Have Joseph run to the market, ask af'er the 'Raven's' supplies, how much she stocked up. Soon as he finds out, we'll head out."

Gibbs' brow knotted slightly in confusion, but he nodded and said, "Aye, Cap'n." He turned and left the cabin, but not without a questioning glance over his shoulder that went ignored.

Once alone, Jack sighed. He'd been staring at the map for the better part of an hour and had yet to understand any of it. His brain had been running in dizzy circles the entire time.

It didn't make any sense- he'd had female crew before, besides Sofia and Ana Maria. They'd been good lasses, good sailors. If one of them had vanished, he would have written it off as them chasing their own dreams, and not bothered with the search. The same with any of his other crew- any one that fell behind, got left behind. It was a basic rule for pirates- chasing every wayward crewman would've sent the entire pirate population down to Davy Jones' Locker.

Then why, Jack thought with exasperation, was he so stuck on finding Sofia? Or even, heaven forbid, rescuing her from her own mess? It didn't make any sense.

Will had done the same thing, he thought irritably, shoving the map across the table in one reckless movement. But at least Will had a reason-

At that point Jack stomped on the thought, ground it to dust, and went outside to count constellations.


	6. Chapter Five: Mother's Love

Chapter Five:

Mother's Love

They had been sailing three days before Jordan came to Sofia again; three days marked only by the occasional comings and goings of a crewman who left food and water and took away refuse. Three days in which she was left to stew in her own thoughts, to whip herself into an expectant fit of terror.

Of course, Sofia knew all of this. Jordan was a rather predictable man when it came to barbaric ways, and she was well acquainted with this method. So she sat in the corner of her cell for three days, braiding straw into her hair and seeing how high she had to stretch to reach the porthole. She never did reach it, and the straw never did stay in her too-short-for-braids hair.

Sofia was dozing when Jordan came again, her arms crossed across her chest and her chin resting on her collarbone. Jordan's low chuckle roused her and she watched him groggily.

"Feeling well rested, are we?" said Jordan. Sofia shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. "It's all right, but the accommodations are a bit less that lavish. May I suggest you fire the maid?"

Jordan shook his head. The bars cast striped shadows across his face, lending him the look of an amused tiger. "Flippant to the last. Ne'er change, do ye."

"Nor do you," Sofia replied lazily. "Constant of the universe, that. People never quite change."

Jordan grunted in reply and fished a ring of keys from his pocket, inserting one into the lock. Sofia stiffened despite herself. Jordan noticed and smiled wolfishly, then swung the door open with a bone-chilling squeal.

"Ye've been recuperating quite finely, miss," he said, dark amusement flickering in his eyes like a dying flame. "Time ye repaid the debt o' such things." He stepped in and seized her by the wrist, dragging her to her feet. Sofia did not struggle, or even indicate that she cared. If Jordan wanted fear from her then he would get anything but. She yawned theatrically.

"Ye'll be wantin' to come up wit' some new threats, Jordan," she said lazily, rolling her head back to gaze at him with insouciant eyes. "I believe I've heard 'em all afore."

Jordan growled and dragged her behind him effortlessly, forcing her through the _Blackbird's _bowels and up to the main deck. Sofia blinked owlishly in the sudden light, having been in darkness for over three days. Most of the crew was lolling about there, either having nothing else to do or wanting to see the action.

"I'm curious," said Sofia, casting an ascertaining eye at the motley collection of miscreants. "Jes' what did you do to Gandillon?"

A low laugh arose from the men. Jordan raised his eyebrows.

"Why, we kilt the bilge rat," he said, as if surprised at the question. He smirked at Sofia. "Ye'll be wishing ye was dead too, afore we're done with ye."

And with that he flung her at the crew. They descended like a pack of ravening dogs. Sofia had nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. And no one cared how much she screamed, other than to laugh at her.

* * *

Jack leaned against the wheel, his body swaying slightly with the ship's movements and the wind's gentle, almost playful tug. The entirety of the Atlantic Ocean spread before him, glittering with a deep blue no paint could ever match, nor any jewel could ever outshine. The sea faded out at the horizon, blending seamlessly with the sky until it seemed they floated in a vast blue emptiness, out beyond any mortal man's reckoning or the longitude of any map.

"May I ask a question, Cap'n?"

Jack did not stir, almost seeming to not have heard the question. After a moment he said, "Ask away, Gibbs."

"What happen' to followin' the Code?"

Jack cast Gibbs an amused glance. "I thought 'twere more like guidelines than rules, Gibbs," he said, echoing the phrase Gibbs had used when rescuing him from the gallows over a year previously. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Chasin' af'er one mad woman ain't like ye, Jack," said Gibbs, speaking with almost uncharacteristic candor. "Yer a daft bugger, but this is a deal more daft than even you'd come up with."

Jack shrugged half-heartedly. "Nothing better to do, no more promising venture- what would you propose I do, Gibbs, instead of chase the lass across the ocean? Besides, there's bloody good hunting in Africa."

Gibbs shook his head. He would never get anywhere by questioning Jack, especially when it came to personal matters. Jack could be cagier than a jail cell when he had a mind to be. "Ne'er mind, Cap'n." He left Jack to himself and climbed the shrouds, more for something to do than because of necessity.

Jack lashed the wheel and descended below decks and went to the galley. He helped himself to a slightly shriveled apple and set to poking about the ship.

He found Ana Maria in the gunnery, cleaning a musket with quick, sure movements. She didn't look up at the sound of his boots but kept to her task. Jack sat on a stool beside her and surveyed the work absently.

"Ana Maria," he said, "you're quartermaster around here. What do the crew think o' me chasin' the _Blackbird_?"

"That yer daft," Ana Maria replied without looking up. "Admirably mad. Probably ha' too much rum and sun an' lost yer common sense. But yer chasin' the _Blackbird_, so they're chasin' the _Blackbird_." She put down the musket and met Jack's gaze. "What's this about?"

Jack shrugged lackadaisically. "Naught that seems more appealing. What could be better than chasing nefarious pirates for no good reason?"

Ana Maria squinted slightly and pursed her lips. "Liar. You're chasin' Sofia, an' you'd chase 'er even if she were on the _Dauntless_ with Norrington himself standing guard."

Jack leaned back and took another bite of his apple. "I do so despise it," he said lazily, "when you figure out me motives. I'm not keen on hearin' any more of 'em from you."

Ana Maria shrugged. "It's not the first time a daft man's chased a daft woman cross the sea," she said. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You know that."

Jack stood up, scowling. "I've enough of the Will comparisons from myself, thank you," he said irritably. "No need to come up with them yourself."

Ana Maria shook her head and returned to her work, saying nothing more. Jack swaggered off. He knew better than to ask to have someone psychoanalyze him.

Especially when, for once in his life, he was so dreadfully transparent.

* * *

Sofia was flung brusquely back into her cell. She hit the back wall with a heavy thump and collapsed onto the floor. No one cared.

Sofia clenched her teeth and hissed softly. Every square inch of her body ached. Her exposed skin—and there was a lot more of it, after what the crew had done—was slowing turning carnival colors. She would soon look like a plum, she decided, gingerly feeling her face. She was by no means a vain woman, but the idea of looking like a scurvy survivor didn't appeal to her in the least.

Sofia sat up, leaning her back against the damp bulkhead. Her ribs were tender, either badly cracked or broken, and lying down was not a tempting proposition what with one thing and another. 

She tugged at her ruined shirt, trying to cover herself better. For several years she had been raised as a boy, had even wandered around shirtless as a child, but that was back when she had no modesty at all. Sofia didn't have much more at this time, but she didn't want to expose herself either. The crew's actions had done it for her, she needn't help.

Sofia was by no means any kind of virgin, but she still felt violated. She shuddered and hugged herself.

"Oh, Momma," she whispered brokenly through swollen lips. "I wish you were here. I'm all alone now…" A quiet sob rose in her throat.

It was all, Sofia decided, Lydia Avery's fault. That bloody woman had put that bloody curse on the bloody ship and ended up destroying Sofia's entire bloody life. If it weren't for the curse, Sofia would have been a wealthy merchant's daughter, probably married off to some equally wealthy merchant by now.

Sofia chuckled mirthlessly. "As if I'd want to," she muttered. A tame, civilized life would be even less appealing than the one she led now.

She let herself slip into waking dreams, wandering through memories. The sound of Starling's laughter, her mother's beautiful voice, the smell of gunpowder as the _Blackbird_ surged toward battle. All of it tumbled over and over in her mind until she couldn't tell one thing from the next.

And then a single image rose from the murk- Jack Sparrow, grinning rakishly at her in the smoky air of a Tortuga tavern, his hair jangling. And then his soft chuckle, when she'd awakened aboard the _Black Pearl_. He was the only person in a very long time that had shown her any kind of humanity, any real concern.

Sofia dismissed the thought and sank into true sleep. ~_He won't come~,_ she thought sleepily. ~_I'm just another woman… man like that, he ne'er thought of chasin' a woman lest she was the sort to give favors for a low price…he'll be off chasin' merchant ships, more like…~_

And so Sofia slept, fully unaware of how much she had underestimated the dear Captain.

* * *

Sofia had no idea how long she'd slept, but when she awoke the soft sound of gentle rain on the sea came floating in through the porthole. A portly old salt unlocked her door and hefted her to her feet. She hurt too much to protest, and the world was spinning in giddy circle as she was dragged up to the deck.

The rain felt wonderful of her battered face. It reminded her of something… something…

__

~"Momma, will he come back?"

Sarah Briggs gently stroked her daughter's hair, her face turned towards the steel-gray water of New York Harbor. It was raining, and light drops speckled her pale face. Out on the water sailed a merchant ship, the American flag flapping feverishly at the zenith of its mainmast.

"Maybe next month, maybe in six months," Sarah said gently. Her gaze dropped to the wooden floor, and a tear disguised itself among the raindrops.

"Maybe never."

Little Sofia hardly understand her mother's fear, she was only four and did not comprehend it. She tugged on Sarah's dress. "Momma, he always comes back, doesn't he?"~

Jordan's face loomed into Sofia's vision, the rain leaving tracks in the grime encrusted on his grizzled face. "Ready for more?"

Sofia's head lolled.

__

~"Doesn't he?"

"Oh, always. But I'm always afraid he won't."

"Sing the coming-back song, Momma. He always comes back when you do."

Sarah's laugh was as light as the sprinkling of water droplets~ dusting Sofia's battered face. She licked her lips, grateful for the fresh water that soothed her parched throat. 

Jordan laughed. "Tie her up, gentlemen."

__

~Sarah's voice rang out above the sound of rain, lifting Sofia back away to a place she had never seen, an Irish homeland Sarah never spoke of.~

Sofia moaned softly as her bruised wrists were tightly bound, but not to each other. She could hardly comprehend why, nor why the ropes were looped over spar in the rigging. All she knew was the sound of rain and her mother's voice.

__

~"Oh Danny boy, the pipes the pipes are calling, from glen to glen, and down the mountainside…"~

"So pretty, Momma," she whispered. Her ankles were being tied now, her boots thrown to the side by a grubby crewman.

__

~"The summer's gone, and all the roses falling…"~

"Up she goes!" Sofia groaned as she was lifted into the air, her wrists screaming but her voice paralyzed.

__

~"It's you it's you, must go and I must bide…"~

A laugh rose up from the men, a rough and callous sound. It called up dark memories of pain and hurt, and Sofia wrapped herself desperately in her mother's half-forgotten voice.

__

~"But come ye back when summer's in the meadow, or when the valley's hushed and white with snow…"~

"Help," Sofia whispered. No one heard but the rain.

"And, heave!"

__

~'Tis I'll be there, in sunshine or in shadow…"~

Sofia's muscles strained as fifteen men pulled on the ropes at her ankles, stretching her between spar and deck like a rag doll. She thought she heard a shoulder pop, but it didn't hurt. She felt nothing but the rain on her face, like tears.

__

~"Oh Danny boy oh Danny boy, I love you so."

Little Sofia hugged her mother's leg and looked out over the steely harbor. "He'll come back."

Sarah kneeled in front of Sofia and gently touched her cheek. "Always, pet," she said softly. "But I won't"

She vanished.~

"Momma?" Sofia stared wildly into the wind, lost between past and present. Nothing made sense.

"SAIL HO! They're black sails, Cap'n!"

A shout rose from the crew. The pulling stopped and Sofia fell. The air rushed past her, an almost gentle caress.

She never felt the impact.

* * *

Jack gripped the ropes of the shrouds in his left hand, his cutlass in his right. The _Blackbird_ loomed up out of the mist, its deck boiling with activity. He smiled grimly. The _Blackbird_ was only a two-masted brig, the same size as the _Interceptor_ had been, but in decidedly worse condition. If it came to it, he could send the _Blackbird_ and its entire black-hearted, mangy, scurvy crew to the depths, and Jordan knew it. Jack could taste victory, and the battle hadn't even begun.

"Raise the Jolly Roger," he shouted over his shoulder. "Load the guns!"

The crew scrambled to obey, gun ports snapping open in the hull, deck guns being pulled back on the deck. The _Pearl_ surged forward, an eager hound chasing an already wounded rabbit. 

The _Blackbird_ fired a single shot, the ball splashing into the sea mere yards from Jack's perch. He grit his teeth.

"~_Give 'im 'ell, men!~"_

Which they did. Quite thoroughly.


	7. Chapter Six: Out Of The Frying Pan

Disclaimer: If you recognize it from POTC, then it's not mine. Sofia belongs to herself. Don't sue me, I only have pocket lint.

Author's Note: I suck at writing battle scenes. I mean it. So if this chapter doesn't really come up to snuff, I'm sorry. That said, read on!

Chapter Six

Out of the Frying Pan…

Joseph hefted a stolen pistol in one hand, his infamous skillet in the other. He was alone, but struggled to keep up a tough façade and call up the misguided courage that had led him to bean Gibbs with a soapy frying pan. It worked relatively well, but inside he was all jelly.

The guns boomed again. Joseph jumped, every hair on his body standing at attention. He grit his teeth, determination welling up from a lode he didn't even know he had.

__

These are the blackguards who stole Sofia, he reminded himself sternly. _Now for it, then._

He took one last edifying breath and left the galley. He charged up the swaying stairs (or maybe he was the one swaying) and burst into the open. His heart came up to his throat.

The _Blackbird's_ guns boomed. He ducked. A ball went soaring past, tearing a sail. The _Pearl_ roared in response. Joseph darted across deck and huddled beside Tuck.

"What's 'appenin'?"

Tuck didn't even blink at Joseph's presence. "They club-hauled. We're comin' in to board."

Joseph shuddered as a nearby gun blasted, smoke obscuring the deck for precious seconds. "What do I do?"

Tuck grinned shark-like. "Try not to get killed, is all."

Joseph groaned. "How comforting."

"Joseph, run for powder!" Gibbs bellowed. Joseph dropped his skillet and ran as fast as his limp would allow.

The _Pearl's_ deck and gunnery alike boiled with activity. Joseph darted to and fro, hauling powder and balls and readying grappling irons. He was below-decks when it happened.

There was a _crunch_ and a shout from above. Joseph toppled with a painful thud. Unfamiliar voices shouted. Joseph scrabbled about for something sharp. He found an empty musket instead. 

"Utterly mad," he muttered. Then he took a deep breath and ran upwards.

The deck was boiling in chaos. Pirates were everywhere, screaming and cutting and swearing and shooting. Joseph saw an abandoned bayonet and dived at it.

"Ho there!" 

Joseph whirled and slashed. The pirate was fittingly surprised and staggered away trying to hold his guts in. Joseph felt ill. Gutting pigs was one thing, but humans…

"Fight, ye idiot!" Crimp screamed in his ear. Joseph scrambled up and dived into the fray. His only regret in doing so was that he'd lost the bloody frying pan.

* * *

Jack grinned to himself. He so loved causing chaos.

Then he leapt from the shrouds, landing nimbly on the _Blackbird's_ deck. He darted through the enemy, slashing almost at random but felling men all the same. 

Then his sword was halted. He looked up.

"Sparrow, isn't it?" the pockmarked man said, a slow grinning uncurling on his face. Jack nodded neutrally.

"Jordan."

And they fought.

Jordan was a worthy opponent. Strong, fast, agile- and incredibly stupid.

"You've no idea what you're up against, mate," Jack grunted, parrying Jordan's thrust. Jordan grinned and swung madly.

"Oh, I think I do."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Arrogant dog, ain't ye," he said. A foot darted out and Jordan crashed to the deck. Jack's cutlass flicked twice, once to dispense of Jordan's weapon and again to hover under his chin. Jack smiled cheerfully.

"Where's the bonny lass, mate?" said Jack conversationally. "I'll find her regardless, but I might not kill you too dreadfully if you answer."

Jordan scowled and spat. Jack easily sidestepped the flying phlegm and shrugged. "Your loss, mate." He pulled Jordan to his feet and before he could escape, hit him over the head with his sword hilt. Jordan's eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed back to the deck.

It seemed the entire _Blackbird_ crew had heard the sound, they all whirled around. None surrendered; in fact they picked up momentum. Jack gave Jordan's unconscious form a solid kick in the ribs and launched himself back into the madness.

* * *

Joseph leapt.

He came up slightly short and dangled off the Blackbird's railing. He scrambled up onto deck, ignoring his knee's loud protests. He was bloody well going to save Sofia or die in the attempt.

His stomach curdled at the thought, but he ignored it.

A pudgy sailor saw him and lunged with a hoarse scream. Joseph ducked. The surprised sailor slammed into the rail. Joseph gave him an well-aimed kick and the sailor went over with a shout and a splash.

Joseph's eyes darted over the deck. About three crusty-looking men had Ana Maria cornered, while Crimp, Tuck, Ashley, and Duncan were distracted. Joseph hefted his bloody bayonet and retrieved frying pan and started running.

"Hey, what-" Joseph hit the speaker with the pan as hard as he could. The man went down hard, and Joseph dropped the pan. He shook out his hand, swearing.

"Joseph, ye daft bugger!" Ana Maria shoved Joseph away and swung at another sailor. "Get back to the ship!"

"Get stuffed, wench!" Joseph retorted, and slashed a random enemy's guts open. Ana Maria dispatched the last and shoved Joseph.

"Get out of here! You're liable to get yourself killed!" Ana Maria ran to the companionway. Joseph followed, but didn't make it. A bullet grazed across his skull and he went down hard.

No one noticed.

* * *

Jack vaulted over a cannon, bashed the gunner over the head, and ran to the companionway with both murder and rescue on his mind. He was going to find Sofia, and then he was going to bloody kill her. _Stupid woman._

He descended into darkness, working his way down to where the brig ought to be. He thought he saw Ana Maria in one of the cabins, but paid her no mind.

The brig was a smelly, dank place. The sounds of battle were only slightly muffled, and he could still hear shouts and screams the thunder of guns. 

One of the cells had a prisoner inside. It was Sofia, but she was battered almost beyond recognition. A twinge of guilt tugged at Jack's chest. He ignored it and drew his pistol. A single shot destroyed the lock and he slammed the door open, darting in and sitting Sofia up.

"Best be alive, lass," Jack muttered. He felt for breath, holding his hand before Sofia's nose. She was breathing, but with a sporadic, wheezing quality. Jack cursed softly and stood, then picked up Sofia, carrying her fireman style. He ran back up through the decks, hoping to high heaven that the _Blackbird's_ crew wouldn't shoot Sofia out-of-hand.

* * *

Kramer was not happy.

Five pirates surrounded him, each of them grinning wolfishly and clutching bloody weapons. Kramer smiled nervously.

"Parlay?"

A raucous laugh was his only reply. Kramer slumped. He tossed his weapon to the deck with a clatter. The bearded pirate nodded in a satisfied way.

"Good. Moses, bind him. Glad ye've seen reason," Gibbs added to the surrendering pirate. Kramer snorted derisively but allowed himself to be bound.

The other _Blackbirds_ faltered. Kramer was first mate, what did his surrender signify now that Jordan was down?

"Throw down yer weapons, men!" Kramer hollered. "Will my men be granted quarter?"

"That's up to the Cap'n," was his only reply. 

Kramer was not happy at all.

* * *

Jack cautiously poked his head out of the companionway. Then he grinned. He emerged with a swagger, despite Sofia's dead weight over his shoulder.

"Round up our wounded, men," Jack bellowed. "The battle is ours!"

A shout rose up from those so inclined. The others were either scowling or unconscious. Jack swaggered across the deck with his prize, and returned to his own ship triumphantly. Finn, the ship's doctor, rushed past to find the _Pearl's_ wounded aboard the _Blackbird_.

The silence, after all the madness of the short battle, was nearly deafening. Jack felt for a moment as if he'd lost his hearing, the lack of sound was so profound. The soft sounds of wounded men's whimpers and the sea splashing against the hulls of the two ships echoed in his head.

Then he dismissed the unsettling feeling and descended into the _Pearl's _bowels.


	8. Chapter Seven: The Evils of Gossip

Chapter Seven

The Evils of Gossip

Sofia moaned. She ached from one end to the other and everywhere in between, and it wasn't a pleasant sensation in the least bit.

"Awake, lass?"

Sofia flinched away from the cool hand that touched her forehead. She recognized the voice, but could not connect it to a face in her memory. Unreasoning fear rose in her belly and she thrashed, trying to escape.

"Calm down!" Firm hands grabbed her wrists and Sofia's eyes shot open with a gasp. After a moment she relaxed. She knew the man- it was Finn, the _Black Pearl's_ surgeon. Relief washed through her.

"'ello Finn," said Sofia weakly. "Lovely morning, ain't it?"

Finn released her and shook his head. "Daft woman." He pressed a bottle to her lips. "Drink," he commanded. "It'll make the pain a bit more bearable."

She obeyed unthinkingly, nearly choking as the liquid burnt its way down to her stomach. Normally she wouldn't have cared, but that was with proper warning. Finn corked the bottle as Sofia wiped her lips with a trembling hand.

"What happened?" she croaked. Finn's face crinkled into a weary smile.

"We chased ye down. The Cap'n 'imself hauled off the Blackbird an' stowed ye here. An' at a pretty cost too." He gestured to the other pallets in the dark cabin. Sofia could see four other forms, but could not recognize them in the dim light.

"You shouldn't have," she muttered. "Tweren't none o' yer concern."

Finn's brow puckered. "Beggin' yer pardon miss, but the best part o' the crew were set on it." His eyes sparkled. "Cap'n Jack particularly."

Sofia pulled the thin, itchy blanket over her head. "Cap'n Jack can get stuffed," she said, voice muffled slightly. "An' so can the rest o' ye madmen. I can rescue myself."

Finn shook his head. "Ye were half-dead, lass-"

"GO AWAY!"

Finn jumped, then shook his head again and stood. "All right, Miss Sofia. I'll be checkin' on ye later on." He left the cabin, softly closing the hatch behind him.

Beneath the blanket, Sofia curled up in a ball and sobbed.

* * *

"Sofia?"

Sofia peered cautiously from under the blanket. When she recognized her visitor, she lowered it and sat up.

"Joseph," she said neutrally. She noticed the bandage covered a good half of his head. "What on earth happened to you?"

Joseph smiled wryly. "A bullet," he said. "Good thing I'm so hard-headed, eh?"

Sofia eyed his bandage sorrowfully. "You shouldn't have come for me," she said mournfully. "You all might have been killed." She shot Joseph a questioning glare. "Was anyone killed?"

"No one you'd mourn for," said Joseph, jaw clenched. His eyes flickered with unnamable emotions. "None o' ours, leastways."

"And Jordan?" she pressed. "What of him?"

Joseph tilted his head to one side, screwing up his face. "Don't rightly know," he said finally. "The captain knocked him out, I think, but he dinnae kill 'im."

Sofia blew all the air from her lungs. "Good," she said bitterly. "If anyone kills the miserable cretin, it'll be me."

"Beggin' your pardon miss, but he nearly killed _you,_" said Joseph, eyes full of youthful earnestness. "You're in no state to go chasing him."

"Tosh," Sofia said, but without much conviction. She sighed and leaned against the bulkhead, weary but unwilling to show it. "Why did you chase me, anyway?"

Joseph shrugged, a hint of his familiar cheeky grin creeping up his face. "Nothing better to do, really."

Sofia smacked his arm lightly. Joseph grinned at her in reply. "I don't know what I'll do with you," said Sofia huffily. "Whelp," she added affectionately. She ruffled his hair and Joseph pushed her hand away with a slight sound of protest, but his goofy grin stayed in place. He really was glad she was back, Sofia realized with a melancholy ache. It was something she'd never experienced before, not since Starling had fished her from a sinking Navy ship and been half-hysterical because of it, babbling on about nearly getting herself killed. Sofia turned the memory aside- Starling was linked inexorably to the _Blackbird_, a ship she did not care to recall just then.

"The captain's been asking after you," said Joseph, taking advantage of Sofia's reverie to insert some of his own words. "How you are an' the like."

Sofia scowled. For some reason the thought of Jack sent a hot ball of rage spinning about in her stomach, and she didn't rightly know why. It would take some time, she decided, before she did.

"I've no interest in speaking to him," Sofia snapped. "I'll be leavin' at next port anyway."

Joseph's face crumpled inward at the words, disappointment practically oozing out of the teenager. Sofia felt a brief stab of guilt—the whelp was like the younger brother she'd never had—but smothered it. She had bigger things to attend to than a crippled teenager, no matter how endearing he was.

"Well," said Joseph delicately, "I 'spose I'll take my leave now. There's supper waitin' to be prepared, an' all." He gave Sofia a half-hearted smile and left, but not without pausing hesitantly at the door. Then he vanished into the passage beyond.

Sofia slumped back onto her straw-filled pallet, rage and guilt warring for supremacy in her belly. It was a familiar feeling.

Jack had no right to run after her like a wanton child. Save her hide or not, she was tired of having her fate controlled by men. She'd traded death for a quieter exile, withering away aboard the _Black Pearl_ while the focus of her entire existence—the twin deaths of Jeremiah Jordan and Lydia Avery—washed away like a child's sandcastle. Soon she would have no hope of finding Jordan again, and forces beyond her power would end his life long before she could. The idea scorched her mind.

Jack would not get away with it, Sofia decided grimly. He'd get a hot earful, and hopefully as many bruises as she could inflict before he slapped her down. Reasonable or not, she and Captain Jack Sparrow were going to have words.

Very nasty ones.

* * *

It was a week before Sofia was allowed out of the makeshift surgery and another four days after that before she was allowed to return to her usually shipboard duties. She avoided speaking to the other crew as much as possible, but it was hard when she was being pressed for details of her imprisonment every five minutes. The interrogation finally stopped when, in the middle of breakfast one day, she threw a bowl of porridge at Gibbs' head and screamed that everyone had better bloody well shut up about her capture, and if there were anyone else who wanted details she would personally see them boiled alive in Joseph's giant gruel pot. No one dared approach her about anything for the next day and a half. Maybe this was because they all knew Joseph would do anything Sofia asked, even if it meant serving Jack Sparrow for supper with a side of Tuck and Miguel.

Jack, for his part, steered clear of his oddly irate crew-woman. It made no sense why she was so upset all the time, but he chalked it up to the fact that she was, after all, a woman. He also needed to sort out why he found it so irritating that she treated him like her captain, rather than the nascent confidante he'd been to her when they first met. The cool deference was strangely irritating.

All in all, the _Pearl_ was rather chaotic at the moment.

A few days after the porridge incident, Gibbs sat on one of the deck-guns, a cup of grog in his hand. It was a fair day, and a merchant ship had been sighted off in the distance. Until they caught up with it, there was nothing to do except get good and drunk in preparation for the battle ahead. Life was good, he decided.

Tuck sat on the deck near Gibbs, his own drink rather stronger- a bottle of rum filched from the hold. Gibbs cast Tuck an amused glance, but said nothing about the pilfering. There wasn't a man jack among them that hadn't done the same.

"Sofia's been a bit of a stick lately," Tuck observed neutrally. He swirled the bottle's contents and cast Gibbs a questioning look. "What do ye make o' it, Gibbs?"

Gibbs shrugged and took another swallow of his drink. "Nothing o' consequence. Woman's prerogative."

Tuck squinted. "Wot?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Bloody female can get away with bein' ornery if she ruddy well pleases, that's what," Gibbs replied. "She'll get o'er it."

"I hope so. She's been interminable."

Gibbs cast Tuck an amused glance. "Who's using big words now, eh?"

Tuck waved off Gibbs' words, using the half-full bottle as a prop. "Ne'er mind tha'. But if ye ask me, an' I know yer not so don' say nothin', lass needs to bedded."

Gibbs snorted, nearly choking on his drink. "She what?"

Now it was Tuck's turn to be amused. "Come now," said Tuck, a grin uncurling wolfishly on his face. "Dinnae say yeh don' think so too."

"Ain't none o' yer business, nor mine, Earnest Tucker," Gibbs grunted. "Leastways not whether or not she's bedded."

"Who?"

Gibbs waved absently at Finn, who had overheard the conversation as he passed and couldn't resist the temptation to gossip. "Sofia. Tuck thinks she's a bit wound up, if yeh get me meanin'."

Finn sat on the gun opposite Gibbs and nodded. "Well, she is," he opined. "Bit o' fun would do the lass good."

"Come to think of it," said Gibbs, warming to the topic, "she ain't been with a man for nigh on five years."

"There, you see?" said Tuck triumphantly. He nodded at Finn. "It's the truth, mate. Lass needs a good bit o' unwinding." He leered slightly. "Who d'ye think she'd spring for?"

"I'd put me money on the whelp," Finn said immediately. Gibbs hooted with laughter and Finn glared at him. "Who'd you pick?" he asked defensively.

"Not the kid," Gibbs said, shaking his head. "She's close to ten years his senior, man! He's naught but a scrawny runt. Nah, I'd say our very own Cap'n Jack."

Tuck frowned. "Ye sure?"

"Weren't he the one what started the chase to begin with?" said Gibbs. He gestured with his cup, accidentally sloshing some of the grog onto the deck. "It's one o' them things, mate."

"An' what o' you?"

Gibbs laughed uproariously. "Ye're bloody daft!" he choked through laughs. "Me? Mother's love, mate, I ain't no bleedin' cradle-robber."

"She's near to thirty," Tuck insisted. "An' a prettier thirty I ne'er did see."

"Ye've been sailin' too long, Tuck," Gibbs said confidently. "If anyone needs to get laid, it's you."

Finn hooted with laughter. Tuck grinned, but a flush hovered under the grime on his face. "Aye, perhaps," he agreed. "But not wi' Sofia. She's liable to kill me sooner!"

"What's so entertaining, gentlemen?"

The laughter and camaraderie vanished instantly. All three men turned, horrified, to see Sofia standing there with her hands on her hips and murder in her eyes. Tuck swallowed loudly.

"Naught o' concern, lass," Gibbs said with forced joviality. The attempt at cheerfulness felt flat. "Jes' gossip," he added.

Sofia glared at each of them in turn. They were tough old salts, having sailed for a good deal of their lives, and had faced dangers both natural and manmade, but they withered under that stare like delicate flowers in a drought. Once they were sufficiently cowed, Sofia spoke.

"Never," she said softly, "discuss me like that. Am I clear?"

The men nodded furiously. Sofia's eyes narrowed.

"Good." She turned on one heel and climbed up into the shrouds, disappearing into the rigging. Not one of the three men doubted that she could hear every word they said from her lofty perch.

"Well," said Finn abruptly, rising from his seat, "I've bandages to change."

The other two glanced at each other, and then silently followed.

* * *

The raid was a highly successful one. The merchant had been carrying goods for none other than the governor of Jamaica, a point that Jack found amusing. The hold was stuffed with cloth, dishes, and other goods that would fetch a high price in any market. Combined with Jack's announcement that they were off to Tortuga, the crew was in high spirits.

Sofia was, for once, in a good mood. There was whiskey flowing freely, Joseph's concoctions were beyond reproach, and the three gossips of earlier were avoiding her stringently. She clapped along with Duncan's fiddle, laughing as Ana Maria and Moses spun madly along with the music. The setting sun was a glorious backdrop to the festivities, casting a light like molten gold on the lithe, tanned forms of the pirates.

Jack came swaggering through the crew, singing along exuberantly, if a bit off-key. He stood before Sofia, a rum bottle in his hand. He made quite a roguish figure, his tangled hair with its trinkets drifting in the wind, his dark eyes laughing under his hat. Sofia was drunk enough to not be angry with him, having forgotten everything but the glorious present.

"What d'ye say," Jack said, "to a bit of a dance, love?"

Sofia squinted up at him. She had a vague notion that she ought to refuse, but didn't rightly know why. She was inebriated enough to dismiss the half-formed, nebulous idea. She stood up, staggering slightly, and Jack steadied her with a low chuckle.

"I say it sounds good," Sofia slurred. "Lead the way, good sir."

Jack grinned impishly, grasped her by the wrists, and off they went like a pair of whirling dervishes. Unheeding of the crew's whoops and catcalls, they spun to the music, lost in the moment. Sofia laughed at the sheer madness of it all.

Eventually the song came to an end and they crashed to the deck, laughing madly. Sofia could barely breathe for glee. She hadn't been this happy since-

The past came crashing down on her. She was supposed to be royally pissed at this man. The conflicting notions warred in her head for a moment, but the anger won out and she stood up and stalked away.

Jack watched her go, bemused. "What crawled up her rear an' died?" he mused. Gibbs laughed at the turn of phrase.

"Haven't a clue, Jack." He gestured with his glass. "Perhaps ye'd do well to have a wee bit of a chat with the lass?"

Jack considered his first mate's words for a moment, then stood up and nodded. "Perhaps so." He swaggered off.

Gibbs and Tuck exchanged gleeful glances. Finn glowered at the two of them. "I'm not concedin' yet," he said grumpily.

Tuck only grinned.


	9. Chapter Eight: Heat

AN: Just for you, Eledhwen.  J Not really, but anyway.  There's mild innuendo in this chapter, so I'll send out a soft-serve Beware for Virgin Eyes.  Otherwise, enjoy, and review please!

Disclaimer: Sofia is her own.  Jack belongs to Disney, no matter how much I wish he was mine.  Everything else is either mine, Disney's, or public domain.  I'm not making any money off this, so please don't hurt me!

Chapter Eight:

Heat

"Sofia!"

Sofia came to a halt, breathing heavily. She gripped the rail, her knuckles turning white at the tension in her hands. Her spine was straight as a ramrod, every line of her body denoting intense, unreasonable anger. 

Jack stopped and hesitated, uncertain of what to say or do. He summoned up his typical foppish manner and grinned at the back of Sofia's head.

"What's ailin' ye, lass?"

Sofia clenched her jaw. "Naught that concerns you," she said sharply. Jack was taken aback slightly- her piratical drawl had disappeared, replaced with the clipped tones of an upper class American. It was rather disconcerting.

"Everything aboard this ship concerns me. Explain yourself," Jack replied, his tone a mix between irritation and drunken goofiness. Sofia spun on her heel and glared up at him. She refused to let herself be startled by his closeness, which was rather more than she was accustomed to.

"I've every right to silence," she hissed. "My mind is my own, Sparrow, I've no need to reveal it to anyone."

Jack's eyes narrowed. Persnickety behavior was one thing, but she was skirting dangerously close to insubordination. "Let's have us a bit of a chat in my cabin," he said with false magnanimity. "Clear the air a bit, what d'ye say?" But his tone and facial expression brooked no opposition- Sofia fancied she could have sawn a log in half with his sharp glare. She nodded tersely and allowed herself to be steered across the deck and into the captain's cabin.

Jack shoved her inside with rather more force than necessary and shut the door behind them. Sofia took a moment to soak up the room- it was far more opulent than she had anticipated, and larger as well. But it had the marks of disuse- the tables were dusty and the air was slightly stale.

"Well, miss, I'd dearly love an explanation."

Sofia wandered deeper into the cabin, ignoring Jack's words. Her back prickled, but she refused to answer. She knew she was skating on thin ice, but she didn't care. She ran a finger over the back of one of the high-backed chairs.

"Sofia."

Sofia looked up, the paradigm of innocence. "I'm certain I don't know what you're talking about," she said coolly. "Explanation of what?"

Jack sent her a thinly veiled glare. "Obstinate wench," he muttered to himself. "Your behavior these past weeks, o' course. Whatever has the _Pearl's_ humble crew done to deserve your ire, dear lady?" he asked, with a sanctimonious little bow. 

Sofia folded her eyes and returned his glare with one of her own. That same glare had made three grown men run away like frightened children, but Jack seemed utterly immune. "Who said it was the crew?"

Jack's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Darling, you wound me," he said, placing a hand over his heart. Then he dropped it and raised an eyebrow, his eyes smoldering beneath. "Do tell."

Sofia snorted. "You wouldn't understand anyway, so why bother."

Jack crossed the room and stood close enough that Sofia could smell the spirits on his breath. A chill ran up her spine despite herself. "Try me," Jack said, voice dangerously low. Sofia tilted her chin defiantly, but his smoldering gaze had turned her insides to ice. Yes, she admitted to herself, she was frightened of this man.

Sofia called up her anger and stood up straighter, meeting Jack's eyes fully. "I'm tired of your controlling me," she snapped. "Of you assuming I want or need your assistance. Despite what you seem to think, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking into an amused smirk. "Really now."

Something in Jack's cool response made Sofia's own neatly arranged thoughts derail. "_I never wanted to be chased after!_" she spat, shoving Jack away. "I was _so close_-"

"You'd be dead, lass," Jack retorted, his own anger rising to match Sofia's. 

"That's what I bloody well _wanted!_" Sofia shrieked. Her brain and her mouth had parted ways, and she was vaguely surprised at what she was saying. "I'd rather be dead than live in the same world as that murderer!"

"You'd be surprised."

Yet another inhibition snapped. Sofia raised her fist and tried to slug Jack, but he snatched her wrists and held her still.

"Let me go!"

"'Fraid not, lass."

"_Stop calling me that!"_ Sofia pulled her left arm free and punched Jack in the face. He snarled softly and pushed her against the nearest wall. Sofia's head knocked the bulkhead and she saw stars.

"What would you prefer, hmm?" Jack said quietly, his face still contorted with anger. "Would addlepated wench suffice?"

Sofia shrieked in outrage and tried to head-butt him. It didn't quite work, but Jack loosened his grip slightly. She shoved him away and bolted to the door. Jack made chase and tackled her to the floor. The impact knocked the air from both their lungs.

Sofia wriggled away, desperately sucking air. Jack grabbed her and pinned her down. 

"Let me go!" Sofia spat. "Is it all that hard?"

"You'll not leave until this is settled," Jack grated. He shook her slightly. "Stop fighting!"

"Let go!" Sofia repeated, a strangled sob rising in her throat. "Let me _go!_ Do you men always have to control everything?!"

"Stop it, love," Jack grunted, trying to hold her still. Sofia growled incoherently and scrambled away. She staggered to her feet and tried to reach the door. Jack ran after her and caught her wrist just as she reached the door. He spun her around and, to both their surprises, pinned her against the hatch and kissed her fiercely. 

Sofia shoved him away. "Don't _ever_ do that," she snapped. And then she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him back.

Neither one really knew what they were doing. Not in the technical sense—_that_ part was blatantly obvious—but why was a mystery. 

Like Gibbs had said, Sofia hadn't been with a man—properly, at least—since Starling. And maybe it was wrong on about fifteen different levels, but she didn't really care. She just knew that Jack's touch burned like nothing else, and his kisses lent the promise of a great deal more to come.

For Jack's part, Sofia was an attractive woman who actually had a good deal of fire in her disposition. That and he figured he'd been arguing with himself far too long and might as well settle the dispute.

But whatever the reasons, it happened anyway.

Outside, Finn handed over a good bit of money while Tuck and Gibbs snickered.

* * *

Sofia opened her eyes, then squeezed them shut again.

_Please tell me I didn't do what I think I did._

There was a warm body beside her and she had long hair that wasn't hers in her face, and she was in a bed instead of a hammock. She cautiously opened once eye.

_Oh, I _did.

She rolled over to see Jack looking at her with a great deal of amusement in his dark eyes. His faded red headband had been discarded at some point, and Sofia could tell how long he'd worn it by the fact that his forehead was, incongruously, a great deal paler than the rest of his face. He looked rather funny.

"Sleep well?" Jack asked, smiling benignly. "Didn't sleep much, really," Sofia replied, returning his smile despite herself. She buried her face in the feather pillow. "Wanna sleep," she said, her voice muffled.

Jack laughed and pulled the pillow away. "You'll have plenty o' time for that later. I still have some questions I need answered, love."

Sofia groaned theatrically and squinted at him. "Evil man," she muttered. She felt particularly generous at the moment, however, and the idea of being interrogated wasn't all that bad. "Ask away, then."

"Why were you so angry at me?"

Sofia frowned. "Ask something else." She tried to pull away, but Jack caught her by the arm and kept her there. His dark eyes glittered in the dim light. "Just tell me."

Sofia scowled. "I don't know, all right?" she said irritably. "I've had men controlling my life _all_ my life, and you seemed just another example."

"You didn't seem to mind last night," Jack said, eyebrows raised. Sofia grunted and flung an arm over her eyes. Jack laughed softly and took the flung wrist, and in a move designed to keep Sofia off-guard, pressed a kiss into the heel of her hand. "All right, new question. Why didn't you want to be rescued?"

Sofia frowned and pulled her hand away. "I wanted to do it myself," she said guardedly. "I suppose I thought I could do that and kill Jordan too," she added, letting out a world-weary laugh.

"You said you wanted to die." Jack's eyes met her own in a questioning look. "Why?"

Sofia sighed. "I saw things, when I was hurt," she said hesitantly. "I saw my mother, and she disappeared. I miss her…"

"How long has she been dead?" Jack asked. He propped his cheek in one hand and watched her consideringly.

"Fifteen years."

"Mmm."

Sofia reclaimed the pillow, fluffed it a bit, and settled into it. "Why do ye ask?"

"She part of the reason you're after Jordan?" Jack asked. He blew a lock of hair off his forehead and Sofia smiled at the uncharacteristic gesture.

"Yes. He killed her." Sofia sighed again. "I think she welcomed it, after being his plaything for so long, but it still hurts."

Jack nodded sagely. "It'll always hurt. Most things do."

"Know about that sort of thing, would do?" Sofia asked, rather more caustically than she'd intended. Jack's eyes darkened slightly.

"Aye. My crew mutinied eleven years ago, an' I spent a decade tracking the traitorous dogs. I got my ship back-" he gestured vaguely at the cabin around them, "but it still gets me hot." He shrugged as best he could. "Probably always will."

"Mmm," Sofia murmured. She nestled deeper into the pillow. "You know about revenge, then," she said sleepily.

Jack absently brushed his hand across her cheek. "Aye."

"Then you know why I'm after it."

"That too."

"Having established that, can we go back to sleep?"

Jack laughed. "Sure that's all you want to do?"

"But the crew-"

"Unless the crew's gone inexplicably deaf," Jack interrupted, amused; "they know perfectly well what's been happening."

Sofia blushed despite herself. "Oh."

Jack nipped at her neck, and Sofia could feel him shaking with silent laughter. "Arrogant man," she muttered affectionately, and gave herself up to his playful seduction.


	10. Chapter Nine: A Moment in Time

Chapter Nine:

A Moment in Time

It was much later that day when Sofia finally emerged from Jack's cabin. Jack had left hours before, and Sofia had wanted to enjoy the luxury of a real bed a bit longer. When she stepped onto the deck, every eye turned towards her and not a few members of the crew snickered softly. She tilted her chin defiantly and set to work with the others, as she had done every day she was aboard the _Pearl_.

"Bit late in risin', eh?" Miguel asked, grinning cheekily. Sofia cast him a glare and he laughed, but he also scurried up the shrouds far faster than usual. Sofia shook her head and smiled slightly- they were good men, but sometimes it took a woman to put them back in their place.

A hand rested on Sofia's shoulder. She straightened and spun, startled. When she realized who it was, her surprise grew.

"Ana Maria," Sofia said cordially. "What is it?"

Ana Maria met her gaze evenly, her dark eyes giving away nothing. "Be careful," she said, her tone a mix of command and sympathy. "He'll forget last night far faster than any other man."

Sofia's brow puckered in confusion, but her chest felt tight. "Whatever are you talking about?" she said. Her voice was calmly curious, but her eyes were ice chips.

Ana Maria shook her head and patted the other woman's shoulder. "Trust me, Sofia. Jack only knows one mistress, and we stand upon her."

Sofia raised an eyebrow. "Not jealous, are we?" she drawled.

Ana Maria glared at her. "Never," she said irritably. "I thought ye could do with fair warning, that you're not to expect more from Jack Sparrow than perhaps one night's warm bed."

"Is that what you got from him?"

Ana Maria's eyes narrowed and she turned away, disappearing below decks. Sofia waited until she was gone to release the breath she had been holding.

"I didn't expect more than that anyway," Sofia muttered angrily to herself. "Nor wanted more."

"What's that?"

Sofia looked up, startled yet again. Gibbs was giving her a questioning look, mingled with paternal amusement.

"Nothing," Sofia said quickly. Gibbs nodded slightly.

"Right then. The deck needs swabbin', miss, ye'd best get to it." He handed a bucket to her, smirking slightly. Sofia sighed and set to her work, grateful for something to keep her mind off Ana Maria's words.

Because no matter what she said, she knew she felt different.

* * *

"Have a moment, love?"

Sofia looked up. Her face was flushed due to her scrubbing madly at one spot on the deck for the past five minutes, and her hair was stuck to her face with sweat. Jack, by comparison, looked as fresh as a daisy. Sofia grumbled slightly, but stood up and nodded. Jack gestured that she follow him and led her to his cabin. Sofia knew everyone on deck was watching, but she felt trepidation gnawing away at her gut over something quite separate. What was Jack going to tell her?

Once inside, Jack closed the hatch behind her and waved vaguely at the large table. Sofia plopped into one of the high-backed chairs, grateful for the reprieve. Jack, on the other hand, paced about the cabin like an anxious cat. Sofia watched him, amused.

Finally Jack paused and spoke, gesturing as if trying to physically frame his words. "You're after the man what murdered your mum. I can respect that, can even condone it. Heaven knows I've killed in revenge over less. But-" here he stepped forward, eyes steely, "I can't endanger my crew."

Sofia clenched her jaw and nodded tersely. He was either going to tell her she was leaving at the next port, or that she wasn't to chase Jordan, in which case she would leave at next port of her own free will. She should have expected it, really, but that knowledge didn't make the sick feeling in her stomach dissipate.

Jack stepped back. "So, I'm going to have to train you up a bit. Jordan won't be as chivalrous as I've been, darling, he won't let you win."

Sofia gaped at him, aghast. "What?"

Jack grinned. "Unless you hadn't noticed, you are a part of my crew. Jordan knows where you are, so he'll be coming for us, but not any time soon, after that beating we gave him. So I've a mind to prepare you for him."

Sofia stood up, trembling, although she wasn't entirely sure why. "You're going to teach me to fight better?" she asked dubiously.

"O' course love," Jack drawled, eyes glinting with amusement. "I've a vested interest now."

Sofia glared at him. "Vested interest?"

Jack's eyebrows went skywards. He'd chosen the wrong words indeed. "Sort of," he said lamely. "But that's beside the point, darling."

Sofia folded her arms. "Arrogant man," she muttered darkly. 

"Of course I am," Jack said blithely, easily regaining his verbal footing. "Now, I'll tutor you in the fine art of sword-fighting, but you've got to promise me something in return."

Sofia's gut clenched. Here it came. "What's that?" she asked, trying to keep her caustic thoughts out of her voice and very nearly succeeding.

Jack wagged a finger in front of her nose. "You're not to confront Jordan, even should he sail up to us and board the bloody ship, unless you can beat me in a full confrontation, no punches pulled. Savvy?"

Sofia had a sudden guilty feeling. She'd seriously underestimated him. Maybe what Ana Maria had said was true, and he'd never touch her again. She didn't know if the idea appealed or not. She shoved the thoughts aside and nodded. "Sounds good to me, Cap'n."

"We have an accord, then," said Jack, extending his hand. Sofia grasped it firmly. They shook hands, and then Sofia turned to leave. Just as she was opening the door, Jack spoke again.

"Oh, Sofia?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"Name's Jack Sparrow. Use it."

Sofia smiled slightly. "Aye, Cap'n."

She left to the sound of Jack's laughter.

* * *

"Welcome," said Miguel, with an impish smile, "to Tortuga."

Joseph stared at the spectacle before him, caught between amazement and distaste. Sofia laughed at his expression and slapped him on the back. "It's a sight, isn't it?"

"Aye," said Joseph weakly. "A more hazardous place I should never hope to see."

Miguel roared with laughter, nearly falling out of the little rowboat in his hilarity. Sofia chuckled softly. "Aye," she said. "But it's a friendly place."

"Quite friendly," put in Tuck with a lecherous grin. "'Leastwise, to them what can afford it." He laughed at Joseph's mildly confused expression.

"We shall have to introduce you to the finer side of Tortuga," Miguel said. Joseph looked dubious.

"Shush, the lot of you," said Sofia, taking one hand from her oar long enough to smack Miguel's arm. "Let the whelp be."

That sparked another round of laughter, during which Joseph grinned sheepishly. 

"Oh, he's a good lad," Gibbs said, giving Joseph a poke in the ribs. "His stews are beyond reproach by mortal men."

"Amen," said Crimp in his high-pitched voice. The men laughed again.

The boat stopped with a crunching sound. The crew jumped out and pulled it fully onto the beach, beyond the lapping waves. The docks had all been full, so the _Black Pearl_ was anchored in the bay and the crew on leave had taken the rowboat to reach shore. Jack, Duncan, and a few others were still aboard, but mostly the _Pearl's_ sailors had crammed into the little boat in search of Tortuga's many pleasures.

Sofia checked the little money-purse at her belt, then looked up at Joseph. "Come on, whelp, I'll buy ye a pint," she said cheerfully. "Come along, we haven't all night."

Joseph clambered out of the boat and staggered slightly. "I'm not used to still ground anymore," he said sheepishly. Sofia shrugged.

"It'll pass. Come on, Tortuga awaits." She grinned impishly, grabbed Joseph by the arm, and off they went.

Tortuga hadn't changed in the month and a half since Sofia had left. Most of the faces had changed, but it still had that delightful atmosphere of revelry and defiance of rules. Sofia loved it. Joseph seemed a bit uncertain, but two taverns and two ales, a tot of rum, and three whiskey shots later, Joseph was very happy indeed.

"It's a lovely town," Joseph said loudly, slurring horrendously. Sofia giggled- she had drunk just as much, but was merely mellow rather than drunk. "It is indeed," she agreed amiably, lifting her shot glass in salute and then knocking back the contents.

A short, busty girl with blonde hair sat in the empty chair at their table. "Hello," she said, leaning close to Joseph so as to give him a good view. "My, aren't you a pretty one," she giggled. She ignored Sofia's glare.

"Really?" Joseph asked, surprised. "I'm not- not-" his brow furrowed as he tried to remember what he was saying, "well, I'm just not," he finished lamely. 

"Indeed," Sofia said coolly. The girl looked up, as if just noticing him.

"What's this? Out drinking with your mum?" The girl laughed airily. "Oh, you poor boy."

Tuck sauntered over and slapped his drink on the table. "Boy's right," he slurred. "You, miss, will be wantin' a man."

"Here now," Joseph protested. "Go away, Tuck."

"What, and pass up such a sweet young thing?"

Sofia let out an irritated sound. "Girl, please go away. I am much a mother as you are a society wife."

The girl giggled. "Really now. Then you won't mind me having a bit of fun with the boy." She nibbled on Joseph's ear. He looked surprised, but rather pleasantly so.

Tuck grinned. "Ah, that's the way of it," he said. "All right girl, what say you take the whelp upstairs and teach him a bit?"

"Gladly," the girl purred. Tuck handed her a few coins and the girl walked off, dragging the rather drunk Joseph behind her.

"What'd you do that for?" Sofia asked as Tuck took up Joseph's vacated seat. Tuck shrugged.

"Feelin' generous. He needed a bit of a push."

"Some push," Sofia muttered. "He won't even remember anything!"

Tuck shrugged again. "Oh well."

"If she robs him blind it'll be your fault," Sofia said. "I, on the other hand, am wantin' a bit o' sleep. Seein' as you menfolk will be doing so here," she cast a disgusted look at the various whores about the tavern, "I'll take the boat to the ship and send it back tomorrow."

"Mmmm," Tuck said absently. While Sofia spoke a redheaded woman had taken up residence in his lap and he was otherwise occupied. Sofia rolled her eyes, tossed a shilling on the table, and left.

She didn't know at first why it bothered her so much, but during the exhausting row back to the ship she figured it out. Joseph was uncorrupted, as pure a soul as any pirate could be. She didn't want him to end up another Gibbs or, heavens forbid, another Tuck. She laughed at the image- Joseph would never be as crass as Tuck. He was too polite, too sweet a boy. Which was why Sofia found him so endearing.

Sofia boarded the ship to the sound of silence. The _Pearl _was quiet, its sheets furled and its deck empty of all but Jack. He was standing at the bowsprit, watching the flickering lights of the town.

"I can watch, if ye like," Sofia said as she approached. "You'd be free to gallivant about town."

Jack beckoned Sofia forward silently, gesturing with an almost-empty bottle of rum. Curious, Sofia stood beside him and watched his face, trying to divine his thoughts.

"Listen," Jack murmured. His voice was rougher than usual, the single word slow and slurred. Somehow he didn't really seem drunk, more like he was lost in old memories and current intimacies. He was quite definitely drunk, though.

"To what?"

There was no response. Sofia sighed and did as requested.

The sea was lapping at the ship's hull, kissing it gently. A warm breeze made the lines whisper. A faint roar of revelry drifted across the water from Tortuga, but the breeze brought only the smell of salt and distant horizons.

Jack smiled slightly, hearing Sofia's soft 'hmm' as she took it all in. "That, love," he said, breaking the bubble of silence around them, "is the sound of freedom."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Jack laughed softly. "I don't rightly understand neither. But there's somethin' out there, if you listen, somethin' that says this ship can go anywhere an' no one can stop us. You can almost feel it, if you try." He took another swig of rum and let out a soft, contented sound. "Freedom."

Sofia's lips twitched with a suppressed smile. "You're drunk, Jack."

"That I am," Jack agreed amiably. "An' on more than rum, darling."

They stood there in silence for a time, enjoying the breeze and the intangible; fleeting thing Jack called freedom.

It was the most peaceful time Sofia had ever known. A single crystallized moment when her problems and fears and memories melted away, replaced by Jack's presence and the world around her. In later years, it was a great comfort to her to look back and see that yes, once she had been at peace.

And she was.


End file.
